Дневник Кришнамурти - [18]

Religion has become superstition and image-worship, belief and ritual. It has lost the beauty of truth; incense has taken the place of reality. Instead of direct perception there is in its place the image carved by the hand or the mind. The only concern of religion is the total transformation of man. And all the circus that goes on around it is nonsense. That's why the truth is not to be found in any temple, church or mosque, however beautiful they are. Beauty of truth and the beauty of stone are two different I things. One opens the door to the immeasurable and the other to, the imprisonment of man; the one to freedom and the other to the bondage of thought. Romanticism and sentimentality deny the very nature of religion, nor is it a plaything of the intellect. Knowledge in the area of action is necessary to function efficiently and objectively, but knowledge is not the means of the transformation of man; knowledge is the structure of thought and thought is the dull repetition of the known, however modified and enlarged. There is no freedom through the ways of thought, the known. The long snake lay very still along the dry ridge of the rice fields, lusciously green and bright in the morning sun. Probably it was resting or waiting for some careless frog. Frogs were being shipped then to Europe to be eaten as a delicacy. The snake was long and yellowish; and very still; it was almost the colour of the dry earth, hard to see but the light of day was in its dark eyes. The only thing that was moving, in and out, was its black tongue. It could not have been aware of the watcher who was somewhat behind its head. Death was everywhere that morning. You could you could hear it in the village; the great sobs as the body, wrapped in a cloth was being carried out; a kite was streaking down on a bird; some animal was being killed;

и был слышен его предсмертный крик. Так продолжалось день за днём: смерть всегда повсюду, как и печаль.

Красота истины и её утончённость не присутствуют в веровании и догме; они никогда не находятся там, где человек может их найти, потому что к этой красоте нет пути; это не какой-то фиксированный пункт, спасительная гавань. Эта красота имеет свою собственную нежность, любовь которой не может быть измерена, её невозможно удерживать, переживать. Она не имеет рыночной стоимости для того чтобы использовать и отложить. Она здесь, когда ум и сердце пусты от того, что создано мыслью. От неё далеки и монах, и бедный, и богатый; её не могут коснуться ни умный, ни талантливый. Тот, кто говорит, что он знает, никогда и не приближался к ней. Будьте далеки от мира и всё же живите ею.

В то утро попугаи хрипло кричали и летали вокруг тамариндового дерева; они рано начали свою неугомонную деятельность, прилетая и улетая. Зелёные, с сильными, изогнутыми красными клювами, они весело проносились с быстротой молний. Они никогда не летали прямо, а всегда зигзагами, испуская пронзительные крики во время полета. Время от времени они садились на парапет веранды, тогда можно было наблюдать за ними, но не долго, так как они снова устремлялись в свой беспорядочный и шумный полёт. Казалось, что их единственный враг — человек. Он сажает их в клетку.

28 сентября 1973

Большая чёрная собака только что задушила козу; её жестоко наказали и посадили на цепь; теперь она жалобно скулила и лаяла. Дом был обнесён высоким забором, но каким-то образом коза забрела во двор; собака погналась за ней и задушила её. Владелец дома урегулировал конфликт, принеся извинения и уплатив деньги. Это был

you heard its agonizing cries. So it went on day after day: death is always everywhere, as sorrow is.

The beauty of truth and its subtleties are not in belief and dogma, they never are where man can find them for there is no path to its beauty; it is not a fixed point, a haven of shelter. It has its own tenderness whose love is not to be measured nor can you hold it, experience it. It has no market value to be used and put aside. It is there when the mind and heart are empty of the things of thought. The monk or the poor man are not near it, nor the rich; neither the intellectual nor the gifted can touch it. The one who says he knows has never come near it. Be far away from the world and yet live it.

The parrots were screeching and fluttering around the Tamarind tree that morning; they begin early their restless activity, with their coming and going. They were bright streaks of green with strong, red, curved beaks. They never seemed to fly straight but always zig-zagging, shrieking as they flew. occasionally they would come to sit on the parapet of the verandah; then you could watch them, but not for long; they would be off again with their crazy and noisy flight. Their only enemy seemed to be man. He puts them in a cage.

28 TH SEPTEMBER 1973

The big black dog had just killed a goat; it had been punished severely and tied up and it was now whining and barking. The house had a high wall around it but somehow the goat had wandered in and the dog had chased and killed it. The owner of the house made amends with words and silver. It was