The Return Home
O lonesomeness! My home , lonesomeness! Too long have I lived wildly in wild remoteness, to return to thee without tears!
Now threaten me with the finger as mothers threaten; now smile upon me as mothers smile; now say just: “Who was it that like a whirlwind once rushed away from me?—
“—Who when departing called out: ‘Too long have I sat with lonesomeness; there have I unlearned silence!’ That hast thou learned now—surely?
“O Zarathustra, everything do I know; and that thou wert more forsaken amongst the many, thou unique one, than thou ever wert with me!