名著精讀:《悉達多》 和兒童般的俗人在一起(4)

At times he felt, deep in his chest, a dying, quiet voice, which admonished him quietly, lamented quietly; he hardly perceived it. And then, for an hour, he became aware of the strange life he was leading, of him doing lots of things which were only a game, of, though being happy and feeling joy at times, real life still passing him by and not touching him. As a ball-player plays with his balls, he played with his business-deals, with the people around him, watched them, found amusement in them; with his heart, with the source of his being, he was not with them. The source ran somewhere, far away from him, ran and ran invisibly, had nothing to do with his life any more. And at several times he suddenly became scared on account of such thoughts and wished that he would also be gifted with the ability to participate in all of this childlike-naive occupations of the daytime with passion and with his heart, really to live, really to act, really to enjoy and to live instead of just standing by as a spectator. Butagain and again, he came back to beautiful Kamala, learned the art of love, practised the cult of lust, in which more than in anything else giving and taking becomes one, chatted with her, learned from her, gave her advice, received advice. She understood him better than Govinda used to understand him, she was more similar to him.
Once, he said to her: "You are like me, you are different from most people. You are Kamala, nothing else, and inside of you, there is a peace and refuge, to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at home at yourself, as I can also do. Few people have this, and yet all could have it."
"Not all people are smart," said Kamala.
"No," said Siddhartha, "that's not the reason why. Kamaswami is just as smart as I, and still has no refuge in himself. Others have it, who are small children with respect to their mind. Most people, Kamala, are like a falling leaf, which is blown and is turning around through the air, and wavers, and tumbles to the ground. But others, a few, are like stars, they go on a fixed course, no wind reaches them, in themselves they have their law and their course. Among all the learned men and Samanas, of which I knew many, there was one of this kind, a perfected one, I'll never be able to forget him. It is that Gotama, the exalted one, who is spreading that teachings. Thousands of followers are listening to his teachings every day, follow his instructions every hour, but they are all falling leaves, not in themselves they have teachings and a law."
Kamala looked at him with a smile. "Again, you're talking about him," she said, "again, you're having a Samana's thoughts."

有時，他感到胸膛深處有一種衰亡的微弱聲音，輕聲提醒，輕聲抱怨，幾乎聽不清。後來他開始意識到自己過的是一種奇怪的生活，他所做的事只是一種遊戲，他很愉快，感到很快樂，但真正的生活卻從身邊流逝了，並沒有觸及他。就像一個球員玩球一樣他拿他的生意來玩耍，與他周圍的人玩耍，觀察他們，跟他們尋開心，而他的心、他的生命的源泉卻並不在那兒。這源泉流向了某個地方，離他很遠走高飛，漸漸看不到了，不再與他的生活相關。有幾次，他由於這樣的想法而嚇了一跳，希望自己也能滿腔熱忱、全心全意地參與日常的這些孩子般的行動，真正地生活，真正地做事，真正地享受和生活，而不僅僅是作爲旁觀者站在一邊。他經常去拜訪美麗的卡瑪拉，學習愛情技巧，崇拜性滿足，奉獻和索取在這兒比在任何地方都更加合而爲一。他跟卡瑪拉閒聊，向她學習，給她出主意，也接受她的忠告。而卡瑪拉也更加了解他，甚至勝過了當初戈文達對他的瞭解，她跟他更加相似了。
有一次他對卡瑪拉說："你像我一樣，跟大多數人不同你是卡瑪拉，而不是別人，在你內心有一種沉靜，那是個避難所，你隨時都可以躲進去，就像到了家一樣，我也是這樣。只有爲數不多的人會這樣，但大家也可能學會。"
"並不是所有人都聰明。"卡瑪拉說。
"不，"席特哈爾塔說，"關鍵並不在這裏。卡馬斯瓦密像我一樣聰明，可是他心裏就沒有避難所。其他人有，但是在智力上卻是小孩子。卡瑪拉，大多數人都好像一片落葉，在空中飄舞、翻卷，搖搖擺擺地落到地面上。可是也有一些人，爲數不多的一些人，卻像沿着一條固定軌道運行的星星，沒有風吹到它們，它們有自身的規律和軌道。我認識不少學者和沙門，但其中只有一個是這種類型的完人，我永遠也忘不了。那就是戈塔馬，那個活佛，那個講經的人。每天都有成千的信徒聽他講經，聽他的每一堂課，可他們全都是飄落的樹葉，自己內心並沒有學說和規律。"
卡瑪拉含笑注視着他。"你又在說他了，"她說，"你又回到沙門的想法去了。"