Luyện nghe bài hát Nietzsche

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

For the babe is born in joy
was begotten in dire woe,
Just as we in joy the fruit
Which we in bitter did sow;

And if the is born a boy
He's to a woman old,
Who nails him down a rock,
his shrieks in cups of gold.

She binds iron thorns his head,
And pierces his hands and feet,
And cuts his heart out of his
To it feel both cold & heat.

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

Till he becomes a bleeding
And she becomes a virgin
Then he up his manacles
And her down for his delight.

He plants himself in all her
as a husbandman his mould,
And she bcomes his
And garden, seventyfold.

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

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

are his meat, they are his drink:
He feeds the beggar and the
And the traveller;
For ever is his door.

His is their eternal joy,
They make the and walls to ring—
Till from the fire on the
Alittle female does spring!

And she is all of fire
And and gold, that none 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 drive out the host,
A at another's door.

He wanders weeping far
some other take him in;
Oft and age-bent, sore distressed,
he can a maiden win.

And to allay his age
The man takes her in his arms:
The fades before his sight,
The garden and its charms;

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

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

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

For as he eats and he grows
Younger and younger every
And on the wild they both
in terror and dismay.

Like the wild stag she flees
Her plants many a thicket wild,
While he her night and day,
By arts of love beguiled.

By various of love and hate,
Till the wide desert o'er
labyrinths of wayward love,
Where roams the lion, and boar,

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

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

But when they find the babe
Terror through the region wide;
They cry, Babe! the Babe is born!'
And flee away on side.

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

And none can touch that form,
it be a woman old;
She nails him down the rock,
And all is as I have told