名著精讀:《悉達多》 船伕(8)

Kamala looked into his eyes. She spoke with a heavy tongue, paralysed by the poison. "You've become old, my dear," she said, "you've become gray. But you are like the young Samana, who at one time came without clothes, with dusty feet, to me into the garden. You are much more like him, than you were like him at that time when you had left me and Kamaswami. In the eyes, you're like him, Siddhartha. Alas, I have also grown old, old--could you still recognise me?"
Siddhartha smiled: "Instantly, I recognised you, Kamala, my dear."
Kamala pointed to her boy and said: "Did you recognise him as well? He is your son."
Her eyes became confused and fell shut. The boy wept, Siddhartha took him on his knees, let him weep, petted his hair, and at the sight of the child's face, a Brahman prayer came to his mind, which he had learned a long time ago, when he had been a little boy himself. Slowly, with a singing voice, he started to speak; from his past and childhood, the words came flowing to him. And with that singsong, the boy became calm, was only now and then uttering a sob and fell asleep. Siddhartha placed him on Vasudeva's bed. Vasudeva stood by the stove and cooked rice. Siddhartha gave him a look, which he returned with a smile.
"She'll die," Siddhartha said quietly.
Vasudeva nodded; over his friendly face ran the light of the stove's fire.
Once again, Kamala returned to consciousness. Pain distorted her face, Siddhartha's eyes read the suffering on her mouth, on her pale cheeks. Quietly, he read it, attentively, waiting, his mind becoming one with her suffering. Kamala felt it, her gaze sought his eyes.
Looking at him, she said: "Now I see that your eyes have changed as well. They've become completely different. By what do I still recognise that you're Siddhartha? It's you, and it's not you."

卡瑪拉緊盯着他的眼睛。蛇毒使得她全身麻木，說話已口齒不清。“你老了，親愛的，”她說，“頭髮也花白了。可是，你仍然像當年那個沒穿衣服、兩腳滿是塵垢地跑到花園來找我的小沙門。你比當年你離開我和卡馬斯瓦密出走時更像個沙門了。你的眼睛仍像那時候，席特哈爾塔。啊，我也老了，衰老了——你還能認我麼？”
席特哈爾塔笑笑說：“我一眼就認出了你，卡瑪拉，親愛的。”
卡瑪拉指指她的孩子說：“你也認出他了嗎？他是你的兒子。”
她的眼睛顯得迷亂了，閉上了。男孩哭起來，席特哈爾塔把他抱到膝上，任他哭，撫摩着他的頭髮，看着孩子的臉他想起了一段自己兒時學到的婆羅門祈禱文。他用唱歌一般的語調緩緩地吟誦撫慰下，孩子平靜了，只還偶爾抽泣一兩聲，後來便睡着了。席特哈爾塔把他放到瓦蘇代瓦的牀上。瓦蘇代瓦正在爐竈邊燒飯。席特哈爾塔瞥了他一眼，他也答以微笑。
“她快要死了。”席特哈爾塔小聲說。
瓦蘇代瓦點點頭，爐竈裏的火光在他那慈祥的臉上閃爍不定。
卡瑪拉又一次恢復了知覺。痛楚扭歪了她的面容，席特哈爾塔的眼睛在她的嘴上和蒼白的兩頰上看出了這痛楚。他靜靜地端詳、專注、耐心地沉浸在她的痛楚之中。目測瑪拉覺察了，以目光搜尋他的眼睛。
她看見了他，說道：“現在我發現你的眼睛也變了，變得完全不同了。我到底憑什麼認出了你是席特哈爾塔呢？你既是他又不是他嘍！”