悉达多悟到了什么 名著精读:《悉达多》-觉醒(2)

名著精读:《悉达多》-觉醒(2)  

He looked around
as if he was seeing the world for the first time. Beautiful was the world
colourful was the world
strange and mysterious was the world! Here was blue
here was yellow
here was green
the sky and the river flowed
the forest and the mountains were rigid
all of it was beautiful
all of it was mysterious and magical
and in its midst was he
Siddhartha
the awakening one
on the path to himself. All of this
all this yellow and blue
river and forest
entered Siddhartha for the first time through the eyes
was no longer a spell of Mara
was no longer the veil of Maya
was no longer a pointless and coincidental diversity of mere appearances
despicable to the deeply thinking Brahman
who scorns diversity
who seeks unity. Blue was blue
river was river
and if also in the blue and the river
in Siddhartha
the singular and divine lived hidden
so it was still that very divinity's way and purpose
to be here yellow
here blue
there sky
there forest
and here Siddhartha. The purpose and theessential properties were not somewhere behind the things
they were in them
in everything.
"How deaf and stupid have I been!" he thought
walking swiftly along. "When someone reads a text
wants to discover its meaning
he will not scorn the symbols and letters and call them deceptions
coincidence
and worthless hull
but he will read them
he will study and love them
letter by letter. But I
who wanted to read the book of the world and the book of my own being
I have
for the sake of a meaning I had anticipated before I read
scorned the symbols and letters
I called the visible world a deception
called my eyes and my tongue coincidental and worthless forms without substance. No
this is over
I have awakened
I have indeed awakened and have not been born before this very day."
In thinking this thoughts
Siddhartha stopped once again
suddenly
as if there was a snake lying in front of him on the path.
Because suddenly
he had also bee aware of this: He
who was indeed like someone who had just woken up or like a new-born baby
he had to start his life anew and start again at the very beginning. When he had left in this very morning from the grove Jetavana
the grove of that exalted one
already awakening
already on the path towards himself
he he had every intention
regarded as natural and took for granted
that he
after years as an ascetic
would return to his home and his father. But now
only in this moment
when he stopped as if a snake was lying on his path
he also awoke to this realization: "But I am no longer the one I was
I am no ascetic any more
I am not a priest any more
I am no Brahman any more. Whatever should I do at home and at my father's place? Study? Make offerings? Practise meditation? But all this is over
all of this is no longer alongside my path."
Motionless
Siddhartha remained standing there
and for the time of one moment and breath
his heart felt cold
he felt a cold in his chest
as a small animal
a bird or a rabbit
would when seeing how alone he was. For many years
he had been without home and had felt nothing. Now
he felt it. Still
even in the deepest meditation
he had been his father's son
had been a Brahman
of a high caste
a cleric. Now
he was nothing but Siddhartha
the awoken one
nothing else was left. Deeply
he inhaled
and for a moment
he felt cold and shivered. Nobody was thus alone as he was. There was no nobleman who did not belong to the noblemen
no worker that did not belong to the workers
and found refuge with them
shared their life
spoke their language. No Brahman
who would not be regarded as Brahmans and lived with them
no ascetic who would not find his refuge in the caste of the Samanas
and even the most forlorn hermit in the forest was not just one and alone
he was also surrounded by a place he belonged to
he also belonged to a caste
in which he was at home. Govinda had bee a monk
and a thousand monks were his brothers
wore the same robe as he
believed in his faith
spoke his language. But he
Siddhartha
where did he belong to? With whom would he share his life? Whose language would he speak?
Out of this moment
when the world melted away all around him
when he stood alone like a star in the sky
out of this moment of a cold and despair
Siddhartha emerged
more a self than before
more firmly concentrated. He felt: This had been the last tremor of the awakening
the last struggle of this birth. And it was not long until he walked again in long strides
started to proceed swiftly and impatiently
heading no longer for home
no longer to his father
no longer back.