Siddhartha (excerpt)

He no longer saw the face 
of his friend Siddhartha, 

He no longer saw the face 
of his friend Siddhartha, 

He no longer saw the face 
of his friend Siddhartha, 
Instead he saw other 
faces, many, a long 
sequence, a flowing river 
of faces, of hundreds of 
thousands, which all came 
and disappeared, and yet 
all seemed to be there 
simultaneously, which all 
constantly changed and 
renewed themselves, and 
which were still all 
Siddhartha. He saw the 
face of a fish, a carp, with 
an infinitely painfully 
opened mouth, the face of 
a dying fish, with fading 
eyes - 

he saw the face of a 
new-born child, red and full 
of wrinkles, distorted from 
crying - he saw the face of
a murderer, he saw him plunging a knife into the body of another person - he saw, in the same 
second, this criminal in bondage, kneeling and his head being chopped off by the executioner with one blow of his sword - he saw the bodies of men and women, naked in positions and cramps of frenzied love - he saw corpses stretched out, motionless, cold, void - he saw the heads of animals, of boars, of crocodiles, of elephants, of bulls, of birds - he saw gods, saw Krishna, saw Agni - he saw all of these figures and faces in a thousand relationships with one another, each one helping the other, loving it, hating it, destroying it, giving re-birth to it, each one was a will to die, a passionately painful 
confession of  transitoriness, and yet none of them died, each one only transformed, was always re-born, received evermore a new face, without any time having passed between the one and the other face - 

and all of these figures and faces rested, flowed, generated themselves, floated along and merged with each other, and they were all constantly covered by something thin, without individuality of its own, but yet existing, like a thin glass or ice, like a 
transparent skin, a shell form or mask of water, and this mask was smiling, and this mask was Siddhartha's smiling face, which Govinda, touched with his lips, at that moment.

(English) He no longer saw the face 
of his friend Siddhartha, 

(French) Le visage de son ami Siddhartha disparu à son regard,

(Spanish) Dejo de ver el rostro de su amigo Siddhartha
y vio en vez de este, otros rostros,
muchos una hilera enorme, un río de rostros cientos miles de caras que llegaban y pasaban, aunque parecían estar todas ahí al mismo tiempo. 
Miles de caras que se transformaban y se renovaban  y se sensentamente
y que sin embargo eran todas Siddhartha. Vio el rostro de un pez, de una carpa con la boca desencajada por el dolor infinito, un pez moribundo con los ojos saltones.

(French) Il vit le visage rouge et ridé
D’un nouveau-né, sous le point de pleurer.
Il vit celui d’un meurtrier
Il vit comme il plongeait un couteau dans le corps d’un homme
Il vit, au même instant,
Ce meurtrier s’agenouiller avec ses entraves et le bourreau lui tranchait la tête
d’un seul coup de son glaive.
Il vit des corps d’hommes et de femmes nus dans les positions
Et les luttes de l’amour les plus effrénés.
Il vit des cadavres allongés, rigides, froids, vidés.
Il vit des têtes d’animaux : des sangliers, des crocodiles, d’éléphants, des
taureaux, d’oiseaux.
Il vit des Dieux : Krishna, Agni.
Il vit toutes ces figures, et tous ces corps unis de milles façons les uns aux
autres, chacun d’eux venait en aide à l’autre : l’aimant, le haïssant, le
détruisant, procréant de nouveau.
Dans chacun se manifestait la volonté de mourir, l’avoue passionnément
douloureux de sa fragilité et malgré cela aucun d’eux ne mourait, mais se
transformait, renaissait toujours, prenait toujours un nouvel aspect, sans que
pourtant entre la première et la deuxième forme se pu mettre un espace de
temps.

(English) and all of these figures and faces rested, flowed, generated themselves, floated along and merged with each other, and they were all constantly covered by something thin, without individuality of its own, but yet existing, like a thin glass or ice, like a 
transparent skin, a shell form or mask of water, and this mask was smiling, and this mask was Siddhartha's smiling face, which Govinda, touched with his lips, at that moment.