BELOVED TEACHER
J. KRISHNAMURTI:

Oh! Listen,
I will sing to thee the song of my Beloved.

Where the soft green slopes of the still mountains
Meet the blue shimmering waters of the noisy sea,
Where the bubbling brook shouts in ecstasy,
Where the still pools reflect the calm heavens,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

I am the blue firmament and the black cloud,
I am the waterfall and the sound thereof,
I am the graven image and the stone by the wayside,
I am the rose and the falling petals thereof,
I am the flower of the field and the sacred lotus,
I am the sanctified waters and the still pool,
I am the tree that towereth among the mountains
And the blade of grass in the peaceful lane,
I am the tender spring leaf and the evergreen foliage.

I am the barbarian and the sage,
I am the impious and the pious,
I am the ungodly and the godly,
I am the harlot and the virgin,
I am the liberated and the man of time,
I am the the indestructible and the destructible,
I am the renunciation and the proud possessor.
I am all
few know me.

I am neither This nor That,
I am neither detached nor attached,
I am neither heaven nor hell -- few know me --
I am neither philosophies nor creeds,
I am neither the Guru nor the disciple.
O friend,
I contain all.

I am clear as the mountain stream,
Simple as the new spring leaf.

Happy are they
That meet with me.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

...I was supremely happy, for I had seen. Nothing could ever be the same. I have drunk at the clear and pure waters and my thirst was appeased. ...I have seen the Light. I have touched compassion which heals all sorrow and suffering; it is not for myself, but for the world. ...Love in all its glory has intoxicated my heart; my heart can never be closed. I have drunk at the fountain of Joy and eternal Beauty. I am God-intoxicated. –K.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

The fountain of Truth has been revealed to me and the darkness has been dispersed. Love in all its glory has intoxicated my heart; my heart can never be closed. I have drunk at the fountain of Joy and eternal Beauty. I am God-intoxicated."
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

"The room became full of that benediction.... It was the centre of all creation; it was a purifying seriousness that cleansed the brain of every thought, and feeling; its seriousness was as lightning which destroys and burns up; the profundity of it was not measurable, it was there immovable, impenetrable, a solidity that was as light as the heavens.... There was impenetrable dignity and a peace that was the essence of all movement, action. No virtue touched it for it was ... utterly perishable and so it had the delicacy of all new things, vulnerable, destructible and yet it was beyond all this.... It was 'pure', untouched so ever dyingly beautiful."
"... of a sudden that unknowable immensity was there, not only in the room and beyond but also deep, in the innermost recesses, which was once the mind ... that immensity left no mark, it was there, clear, strong, impenetrable and unapproachable whose intensity was fire which left no ash. With it was bliss."
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

O friend,
Wouldst thou love the reflection,
If I can give thee the reality?
Throw away thy bells, thine incense,
Thy fears and thy gods,
Set aside thy systems, thy philosophies.
Come,
Put aside all these.
I know the way to the heart of the Beloved.
O friend,
The simple union is the best.
This is the way to the heart of the Beloved.
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

“Yea, I have sought my Beloved, And discovered Him seated in my heart. My Beloved beholds through mine eyes, For now my Beloved and I are one.
I laugh with Him, With Him I play.
This shadow is not of mine, It belongs to the heart of my Beloved, For now my Beloved and I are One.”
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

I have become one with the Beloved. I have been made simple. I have become glorified because of Him.
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

“I don’t think people realize what tremendous energy and intelligence went through this body.... You won’t find another body like this, or that supreme intelligence operating in a body for many hundred years. You won’t see it again” (in Lutyens, 1988).
Krishnamurti is supposed to have said that he is even greater than Buddha or the Christ (in Sloss, 2000).
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

I would show you how I have found my beloved, how the beloved is established in me, how the beloved is the Beloved of all, and how the Beloved and I are one so that there can be no separation either now or at any time.
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

My Beloved is the open skies, the flower, every human being.... I have been united with my Beloved, and my Beloved and I will wander together the face of the earth ... (and) you will not understand the Beloved until you are able to see Him in every animal, in every blade of grass, in every person that is suffering, in every individual.
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Oh! Listen,
I will sing to thee the song of my Beloved.

Where the soft green slopes of the still mountains
Meet the blue shimmering waters of the noisy sea,
Where the bubbling brook shouts in ecstasy,
Where the still pools reflect the calm heavens,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

In the vale where the cloud hangs in loneliness
Searching the mountain for rest,
In the still smoke climbing heavenwards,
In the hamlet toward the setting sun,
In the thin wreaths of the fast disappearing clouds,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

Among the dancing tops of the tall cypress,
Among the gnarled trees of great age,
Among the frightened bushes that cling to the earth,
Among the long creepers that hang lazily,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

In the ploughed fields where noisy birds are feeding,
On the shaded path that winds along the full, motionless river,
Beside the banks where the waters lap,
Amidst the tall poplars that play ceaselessly with the winds,
In the dead tree of last summer's lightning,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

In the still blue skies,
Where heaven and earth meet
In the breathless air,
In the morn burdened with incense,
Among the rich shadows of a noon-day,
Among the long shadows of an evening,
Amidst the gay and radiant clouds of the setting sun,
On the path on the waters at the close of the day,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

In the shadows of the stars,
In the deep tranquility of dark nights,
In the reflection of the moon on still waters,
In the great silence before the dawn,
Among the whispering of waking trees,
In the cry of the bird at morn,
Amidst the wakening of shadows,
Amidst the sunlit tops of the far mountains,
In the sleepy face of the world,
There thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

Keep still, O dancing waters,
And listen to the voice of my Beloved.

In the happy laughter of children
Thou canst hear Him.
The music of the flute
Is His voice.
The startled cry of a lonely bird
Moves thy heart to tears,
For thou hearest His voice.
The roar of the age-old sea
Awakens the memories
That have been lulled to sleep
By His voice.
The soft breeze that stirs
The tree-tops lazily
Brings to thee the sound
Of His voice.

The thunder among the mountains
fills thy soul
With the strength
Of His voice.
In the roar of a vast city,
through the voices of the night,
The cry of sorrow,
The shout of joy,
Through the ugliness of anger,
Comes the voice of my Beloved.

In the distant blue isles,
On the soft dewdrop,
On the breaking wave,
On the sheen of waters,
On the wing of the flying bird,
On the tender leaf of the spring,
Thou wilt see the face of my Beloved.

In the sacred temple,
In the halls of dancing,
On the holy face of the sannyasi,
In the lurches of the drunkard,
With the harlot and with the chaste,
Thou wilt meet with my Beloved.

On the fields of flowers,
In the towns of squalor and dirt,
With the pure and the unholy,
In the flower that hides divinity,
There is my well-Beloved.

Oh! the sea
Has entered my heart,
In a day,
I am living an hundred summers.
O, friend,
I behold my face in thee,
The face of my well-Beloved.

This is the song of my love.

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Only this, as it is; no more, no less.