And time after time, his smile became more similar to the ferryman's, became almost just as bright, almost just as throughly glowing with bliss, just as shining out of thousand small wrinkles, just as alike to a child's, just as alike to an old man's. Many travellers, seeing the two ferrymen, thought they were brothers. Often, they sat in the evening together by the bank on the log, said nothing and both listened to the water, which was no water to them, but the voice of life, the voice of what exists, of what is eternally taking shape. And it happened from time to time that both, when listening to the river, thought of the same things, of a conversation from the day before yesterday, of one of their travellers, the face and fate of whom had occupied their thoughts, of death, of their childhood, and that they both in the same moment, when the river had been saying something good to them, looked at each other, both thinking precisely the same thing, both delighted about the same answer to the same question. 一次又一次，席特哈尔塔的笑容与船夫的笑容越来越相似，几乎同样神采奕奕，几乎同样幸福得放光，同样从那上千条强国富民的皱纹里闪闪放光，同样的孩子气，也同样的老态龙钟。好多旅客看见这两个船夫都以为是兄弟俩。晚上，他们经常一起坐在河岸边的树干上，默然无语地倾听河水流淌，对他们来说这不是水，而是生活的声音，存在的声音，永恒发展的声音。有时，两人在倾听河水时想到同样的事，想到前天的一次谈话，想到他们的一个船客，那人的脸色和遭遇引起他们的关注，还想到死，想到他们的童年。在河水向向他们诉说美好事物的同一瞬间，他们俩有时相互会心地对视，两个人不谋而合地想到了一点，为同一问题的相同答案而感到高兴。 There was something about this ferry and the two ferrymen which was transmitted to others, which many of the travellers felt. It happened occasionally that a traveller, after having looked at the face of one of the ferrymen, started to tell the story of his life, told about pains, confessed evil things, asked for comfort and advice. It happened occasionally that someone asked for permission to stay for a night with them to listen to the river. It also happened that curious people came, who had been told that there were two wise men, or sorcerers, or holy men living by that ferry. The curious people asked many questions, but they got no answers, and they found neither sorcerers nor wise men, they only found two friendly little old men, who seemed to be mute and to have become a bit strange and gaga. And the curious people laughed and were discussing how foolishly and gullibly the common people were spreading such empty rumours. 有些旅客感到这只渡船和两个船夫有些特别。有时，一个旅客看见了一个船夫的面容就开始讲自己的生活，讲自己的烦恼，坦白自己的劣迹，恳求安慰和忠告。有时，旅客会请求跟他们共度一个夜晚，以便倾听河水的声音。还有一些好奇者跑来，是因为听说在这个渡口住着两个贤人，要不就是魔法师或圣人。这些好奇者提出许多问题，却得不到答案，他们既没见到魔法师也没见到贤人，只是见到两个和谒可亲的小老头儿，他们似乎是哑巴，有些古怪和迟钝。于是好奇者们哈哈大笑，大谈传播无稽的谣言是多么愚蠢和轻信。 The years passed by, and nobody counted them. Then, at one time, monks came by on a pilgrimage, followers of Gotama, the Buddha, who were asking to be ferried across the river, and by them the ferrymen were told that they were most hurriedly walking back to their great teacher, for the news had spread the exalted one was deadly sick and would soon die his last human death, in order to become one with the salvation. It was not long, until a new flock of monks came along on their pilgrimage, and another one, and the monks as well as most of the other travellers and people walking through the land spoke of nothing else than of Gotama and his impending death. And as people are flocking from everywhere and from all sides, when they are going to war or to the coronation of a king, and are gathering like ants in droves, thus they flocked, like being drawn on by a magic spell, to where the great Buddha was awaiting his death, where the huge event was to take place and the great perfected one of an era was to become one with the glory. 岁月荏苒，没人再议论他们了。这时，来了一些朝圣的和尚，他们是活佛戈塔马的弟子，请求把他们渡过河去。两个船夫他们口里得知，他们正火急地赶回他们的恩师那儿去，因为有消息说活佛已经病危，即将达到最后的涅槃，达到彻底的解脱。不久，又来了一群朝圣的和尚，紧接着，再拥来一群。这些和尚以及大多数旅客都是开口必谈戈塔马，以及他即将达到的涅槃。就像看军队出征或国王加冕，人们从四面八方拥来。宛如蚂蚁麇集，人们就像受一种魔力吸引，纷纷拥向活佛即将涅槃之处，拥向即将发生大事，一个时代的伟大完人即将进入极乐世界的地方。 Often, Siddhartha thought in those days of the dying wise man, the great teacher, whose voice had admonished nations and had awoken hundreds of thousands, whose voice he had also once heard, whose holy face he had also once seen with respect. Kindly, he thought of him, saw his path to perfection before his eyes, and remembered with a smile those words which he had once, as a young man, said to him, the exalted one. They had been, so it seemed to him, proud and precocious words; with a smile, he remembered them. For a long time he knew that there was nothing standing between Gotama and him any more, though he was still unable to accept his teachings. No, there was no teaching a truly searching person, someone who truly wanted to find, could accept. But he who had found, he could approve of any teachings, every path, every goal, there was nothing standing between him and all the other thousand any more who lived in that what is eternal, who breathed what is divine. 在这段时间里，席特哈尔塔经常想到这位垂危的贤人，这位伟大的导师，他的声音曾告诫了民众，唤醒了千千万万人。席特哈尔塔也聆听过他的声音，满怀敬畏地凝望过他那圣洁的面容。席特哈尔塔亲切地想着活佛，活佛走向完美之路历历在目，他又含笑忆起了当年他这个年轻人对活佛讲过的那番话。他笑着回忆，感到那都是些傲慢自负和多嘴多舌的话。他早就知道自己跟戈塔马无法再分开，可是又不能接受他的学说。不，一个真正的探索者，一个真正要有所发现的人，是不会接受什么学说的。但是，已经有所领悟的过来人却可以赞成任何学说，任何道路，任何目标，什么也不能把他与生活在永恒之中、呼吸着神的气息的千千万万人分开。