Chinese Text
古之善为士者, 微妙玄通, 深不可识.
夫唯不可识, 故强为之容: 豫若冬涉川, 犹若畏四邻, 俨若客, 涣若冰将释, 敦若朴, 混若浊, 旷若谷.
孰能浊以静之? 徐清.
安以动之? 徐生.
保此道者, 不欲盈.
夫唯不盈, 能蔽复成.
Translation
In antiquity, those who excelled in practicing the Tao were subtle and profound, mysterious and penetrating.
They were so deep that they could not be known.
Because they could not be known, I will try to describe their appearance:
Cautious, like one crossing a winter stream.
Alert, like one afraid of danger all around.
Courteous, like a guest.
Yielding, like ice about to melt.
Simple, like uncarved wood.
Hollow, like a cave.
Opaque, like muddy water.
Who can wait quietly while the mud settles?
Who can remain still until the moment of action?
Those who preserve this Tao do not wish to be full.
Because they are not full, they can be renewed and not come to an end.
Notes
B: Those who cultivate the 道 ( ) today seek recognition and fear nothing more than being unknown. But in antiquity, those who cultivated the 道 ( ) (this is the meaning that 尹喜 ( ) gives here to the word 式, ) acted differently. They (E) identified with the 道 ( ), which is why they were subtle and profound, mysterious and penetrating. They were so deep that they could not be known; since they could not be known, it would be impossible to depict them accurately. I will try to give only an approximate idea of what they seemed to be.
C: They hesitated to undertake anything, just as in winter one hesitates to cross a stream.
E: They were attentive, guarded, and (C) dared not do anything wrong.
H: They were humble, reserved, and did not dare to put themselves forward.
尹喜 ( ): When a person begins to be born, they resemble a great void; soon their being condenses and takes form, just as water becomes ice. This is why those who practice the 道 ( ) free themselves from their body to return to their original essence, like ice melting to become water again.
E: The word 敦 ( ) here means "whole," that is, "in its natural state, simple, without ornament or elegance." (They retained their native simplicity.)
E: They were empty and devoid of everything (lit. "they contained nothing").
E: They seemed surrounded by darkness and lacking discernment.
E: The word 愚 ( ) means they appeared "ignorant, stupid." B: They blended with the world and lowered themselves to the level of its dust; their actions did not seem to differ from those of other people.
C: They accepted without complaint the world's disgrace and filth.
E: Earlier, the word 愚 ( ) "troubled" applied to the sage who appears ignorant and stupid. But here it refers to the heart of the multitude, which is filled with trouble and disorder. Muddy water can be purified; but if it is not allowed to settle and is stirred, it will never become clear. E: The expression 孰能 ( ), "who can?" serves to exhort people.
E: If one frequently draws water from a well, it cannot help but become troubled. If a tree is frequently transplanted, it cannot help but die. The same is true of human nature and emotions. If we uproot our emotions, if we suppress our thoughts, then impurities and trouble will disappear, and a celestial radiance will shine within us. If we concentrate our ability to see and hear within ourselves, then our spirits will calm, and we will be born to spiritual life. If a person can act in this way, from coarse they will become subtle, and they will resemble the sages who possessed the 道 ( ) in antiquity.
Aliter B: Who can calm their long-agitated thoughts and gradually return them to their original state?
E: Those who preserve this 道 ( ) do not want to be full. (We saw in Chapter IV that 不盈 ( ) means "empty." They like to be empty.) Indeed, what is full cannot last long (soon overflows). This is what the 道 ( ) detests (it likes to be empty). The sage values what is worn and defective (fig. they like to appear full of flaws); people of the world, on the contrary, value what is new and newly made. They do not want to be full, which is why they can preserve what is worn and defective (in appearance), and do not desire to be (brilliant) like something newly made. B: The sage strips themselves of everything within, leaving nothing that can tie them to the material world. This is why the sage wears coarse clothes and hides precious stones in their breast. Outwardly, they resemble a madman; they are like a worn object; they lack the brilliance and elegance by which new things (lit. "newly made") attract the gaze of the crowd.
This passage means that the sage prefers to appear full of flaws and imperfections rather than to shine with external advantages. In this way, they preserve the merit they possess within.