Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse EPUB & PDF

Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

• Status: Available for Free Download
• Author: Hermann Hesse, Hilda Rosner (Translator)
• Publish Date: January 1, 1982
• Language: English
• Genere: History, Religious
• Format: PDF
• Size: 489 KB
• Pages: 160
• Price: Free

THE SON OF THE BRAHMAN
To Romain Rolland, my dear friend
In the shade of the house, in the sunshine of the riverbank near the boats, in
the shade of the Sal-wood forest, in the shade of the fig tree is where Siddhartha
grew up, the handsome son of the Brahman, the young falcon, together with his
friend Govinda, son of a Brahman. The sun tanned his light shoulders by the
banks of the river when bathing, performing the sacred ablutions, the sacred
offerings. In the mango grove, shade poured into his black eyes, when playing as
a boy, when his mother sang, when the sacred offerings were made, when his
father, the scholar, taught him, when the wise men talked.

For a long time,
Siddhartha had been partaking in the discussions of the wise men, practising
debate with Govinda, practising with Govinda the art of reflection, the service of
meditation. He already knew how to speak the Om silently, the word of words, to
speak it silently into himself while inhaling, to speak it silently out of himself
while exhaling, with all the concentration of his soul, the forehead surrounded by
the glow of the clear-thinking spirit. He already knew to feel Atman in the
depths of his being, indestructible, one with the universe.

Joy leapt in his father’s heart for his son who was quick to learn, thirsty for
knowledge; he saw him growing up to become great wise man and priest, a
prince among the Brahmans.

Bliss leapt in his mother’s breast when she saw him, when she saw him
walking, when she saw him sit down and get up, Siddhartha, strong, handsome,
he who was walking on slender legs, greeting her with perfect respect.
Love touched the hearts of the Brahmans’ young daughters when Siddhartha
walked through the lanes of the town with the luminous forehead, with the eye
of a king, with his slim hips.

But more than all the others he was loved by Govinda, his friend, the son of a
Brahman. He loved Siddhartha’s eye and sweet voice, he loved his walk and the
perfect decency of his movements, he loved everything Siddhartha did and said
and what he loved most was his spirit, his transcendent, fiery thoughts, his ardent
will, his high calling. Govinda knew: he would not become a common Brahman,
not a lazy official in charge of offerings; not a greedy merchant with magic
spells; not a vain, vacuous speaker; not a mean, deceitful priest; and also not a
decent, stupid sheep in the herd of the many.

No, and he, Govinda, as well did
not want to become one of those, not one of those tens of thousands of
Brahmans. He wanted to follow Siddhartha, the beloved, the splendid. And in
days to come, when Siddhartha would become a god, when he would join the
glorious, then Govinda wanted to follow him as his friend, his companion, his
servant, his spear-carrier, his shadow.

Siddhartha was thus loved by everyone. He was a source of joy for everybody,
he was a delight for them all.

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