Translation: H.L. Mencken
--Let us look each other in the face. We are Hyperborean
s--we know well enough how remote our place is. "Neither by land nor by water will you find the road to the Hyperborean
s": even Pindar
,in his day, knew that much about us. Beyond the North
, beyond the ice, beyond death--our life, our happiness... We have discovered that happiness; we know the way; we got our knowledge
of it from thousands of years in the labyrinth
Who else has found it?--The man of today?--"I don't know either the way out or the way in; I am whatever doesn't know either the way out or the way in"--so sighs the man of today...This is the sort of modernity that made us ill,--we sickened on lazy peace
, cowardly compromise, the whole virtuous dirtiness of the modern Yea and Nay. This tolerance and largeur of the heart that "forgives" everything because it "understands" everything is a sirocco to us. Rather live amid the ice than among modern virtues and other such south-winds!...
We were brave enough; we spared neither ourselves nor others; but we were a long time finding out where to direct our courage. We grew dismal; they called us fatalists. Our fate--it was the fulness, the tension, the storing up of powers. We thirsted for the lightnings and great deeds; we kept as far as possible from the happiness of the weakling, from "resignation
There was thunder in our air; nature, as we embodied it, became overcast--for we had not yet found the way. The formula of our happiness: a Yea, a Nay, a straight line, a goal...