Luyện nghe bài hát Nietzsche

I through a land of men,
A land of men and too,
And and saw such dreadful things
As cold earth never knew.

For there the babe is in joy
That was begotten in woe,
as we reap in joy the fruit
Which we in tears did sow;

And if the babe is a boy
given to a woman old,
Who him down upon a rock,
Catches his shrieks in of gold.

She binds thorns around his head,
And pierces his hands and feet,
And cuts his out of his side
To make it feel cold & heat.

Her fingers every nerve
Just as a miser his gold;
She upon his shrieks and cries—
And she young as he grows old,

he becomes a bleeding youth
And she becomes a bright;
Then he up his manacles
And her down for his delight.

He plants in all her nerves
as a husbandman his mould,
And she his dwelling-place
And garden, seventyfold.

An aged soon he fades,
Wandering and earthly cot,
filled all with gems and gold
Which he by had got.

And these are the gems of the soul:
The rubies and of a lovesick eye,
The countless of an aching heart,
The martyr's groan, and the sigh.

They are his meat, are his drink:
He feeds the beggar and the
And the wayfaring
For open is his door.

His grief is their joy,
They make the roofs and walls to
from the fire on the hearth
Alittle babe does spring!

And she is all of fire
And gems and gold, that his hand
Dares stretch to touch her form,
Or her in his swaddling-band.

But she to the man she loves,
If young or old, or rich or
They soon out the aged host,
A at another's door.

He weeping far away
Until some take him in;
Oft blind and age-bent, distressed,
he can a maiden win.

And to allay his age
The poor man her in his arms:
The cottage fades his sight,
The garden and its lovely

The guests are scattered the land
(For the eye altering, all);
The senses roll in fear,
And the flat earth a ball,

The stars, sun, moon, all shrink
A desert vast a bound,
And left to eat or drink
And a dark all around.

The of her infant lips,
The bread and of her sweet smile,
The game of her roving eye
Does him to beguile.

For as he eats and drinks he
Younger and younger every
And on the desert wild they
Wander in and dismay.

Like the wild she flees away;
Her fear many a thicket wild,
While he pursues her and day,
By various of love beguiled.

By various of love and hate,
Till the wide desert planted
With labyrinths of love,
Where roams the lion, and boar,

he becomes a wayward babe
And she a weeping old.
Then many a lover here,
The sun and are nearer rolled,

The trees bring forth sweet
To all who in the roam,
many a city there is built,
And many a pleasant home.

But when find the frowning babe
Terror strikes through the region
They cry, 'The Babe! the is born!'
And flee on every side.

For who dare touch the form
His arm is to its root,
Lions, boars, wolves, all howling
And every does shed its fruit;

And can touch that frowning form,
Except it be a woman
She him down upon the rock,
And all is done as I told