Tao (The Way) that can be spoken of is not the Constant Tao'. The name that can be named is not a Constant Name. Nameless, is the origin of Heaven and. “Among the many translations of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching, Ursula K. Le Lao Tzu : Tao te ching: a book about the way and the power of the. The book Tao Te Ching was written by the great Chi- nese spiritual adept Lao Tse about years ago. In that incarnation, Lao Tse was a disciple of non-.
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The Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu. **The Witter Bynner version*. *http://home. terney.info *1*. *Existence is beyond the power of words. To define. Lao Tzu. Tao Te Ching written by Lao-tzu. Translation by Stephen. Mitchell. Last updated 20 July 1. The tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao. The Most Inspiring Quotes of Lao Tzu. Compiled by Remez Sasson www. terney.info Preface. This book contains of Lao Tzu quotes, .
Isabelle This content downloaded from What is even more unfortunate is that appeared up to the Ming. These interpretations the Press seems to have made no attempt to were written from extremely diverse perspect- salvage its reputation, and once again we find ives-those of inner alchemy, Buddhism, misspellings on the back cover of a SUNY Confucianism and Neo-Confucianism to name book-in this case Ho-shang-kung becomes but a few-but Robinet finds that they share 'He-shang-kung'.
Another particularly egre- similar concerns with linking the present to the gious error is the misspelling of the name of past, and with syncretic attempts to join the one of the contributors-' Schartz' instead of thought of the text with that of other teachings.
BENN volume is 'The Tao te ching in ritual', a most useful corrective to those who would prefer us to understand the text as a mystical or purely philosophical work. The importance of the precepts in East Asian Buddhism is only just Schweizerische Asiengesellschaft, beginning to be fully appreciated, and it is to Monographie Bd. In the meantime, Chinese and Western sinologists base the Tao-te-ching', by Julia M.
Hardy; a reprint their understanding of graphs primarily on the of 'Lao-tzu and the ineffable Tao', from explanations given by Xu Shen A. Celebrated in Chinese ancient China Cambridge, MA, , which tradition and for centuries enshrined in its most appears here under the title 'The thought of the central corpus of reference works, this source Tao-te-ching', and Liu Xiaogan's 'Naturalness was also used by earlier sinologists to explain Tzu-jan , the core value in Taoism: its ancient the origin, mechanism and development of the meaning and its significancetoday'.
Of the three, Chinese writing system. Whereas Chinese Hardy's careful survey of interpretations and scholars provide enormous quantities of not misinterpretationsof the text in Western schol- only orthodox but also critical studies of this arly and popular writings will probably be of 'chief guide through mazes of Chinese epi- especial relevance to those of us who encounter graphy', to quote P. Boodberg, others still these essentialist and often sentimental inter- refer to this early dictionary in the old- pretationsin the classroom.
A patient unravelling fashioned positivist manner. Even after the of received ideas about the Tao may serve us archaeological finds from the end of the last better than the impatient dismissals to which we century, some traditionalists still refer to the may often be tempted to resort. SWJZ uncritically and hold it up as the highest In part 4, 'Critical methods', we turn from authority on etymological issues, though others interpretations of the text to the ever-present tend to describe it as 'an almanac of forged problems of language and translation.
It eludes the sense of touch, and is therefore called incorporeal. These three qualities cannot be apprehended, and hence they may be blended into unity. Its upper part is not bright, and its lower part is not obscure. Ceaseless in action, it cannot be named, but returns again to nothingness. We may call it the form of the formless, the image of the imageless, the fleeting and the indeterminable. Would you go before it, you cannot see its face; would you go behind it, you cannot see its back.
The mightiest manifestations of active force flow solely from Tao. Tao in itself is vague, impalpable,--how impalpable, how vague! Yet within it there is Form. How vague, how impalpable! Yet within it there is Substance. How profound, how obscure! Yet within it there is a Vital Principle. This principle is the Quintessence of Reality, and out of it comes Truth. From of old until now, its name has never passed away.
It watches over the beginning of all things. How do I know this about the beginning of things? Through Tao. There is something, chaotic yet complete, which existed before Heaven and Earth. Oh, how still it is, and formless, standing alone without changing, reaching everywhere without suffering harm!
It must be regarded as the Mother of the Universe. Its name I know not. To designate it, I call it Tao. Endeavouring to describe it, I call it Great. Being great, it passes on; passing on, it becomes remote; having become remote, it returns. Therefore Tao is great; Heaven is great; Earth is great; and the Sovereign also is great.
In the Universe there are four powers, of which the Sovereign is one. When one of these outweighs the other. You train your ear. Now the whole world is not enough reward for the "good. They start everything. Too much suffering? Yin has too much influence. What will they do next? Thought runs wild.
No control. I do not know about running things. Here competition begins. Too much happiness. The balance of cold and heat is destroyed. Too much pleasure? Yang has too much influence. Letting things alone: Not interfering. If he loves his own person enough to let it rest in its original truth. The world falls into confusion. His movements will be invisible.
If men would stay as they really are. Since men honor these delights. When the delights become a religion. Love of knowledge leads to faultfinding. Let him keep the deep drives in his own guts from going into action. But if they will not rest in their right state. The wise man. Love of wisdom leads to wise contriving.
When the delight is over. Overdo your love of music. In complete silence. Where will he find time to govern? Let him keep still. Letting things alone.
He who will govern will respect the governed no more than he respects himself. Let him sit like a corpse. Long life is no ground for joy. The Kingly Man realizes this. And so he lets the gold lie hidden in the mountain. His glory is in knowing that all things come together in One And life and death are equal. Goods and possessions are no gain in his eyes. He stays far from wealth and honor.
That which acts on all and meddles in none-is heaven. If he conquered everything he would not take it to himself. Had he all the world's power he would not hold i t as his own.
Leaves the pearl lying in the deep. Grows boundless. Success is not for him to be proud of. When they clash. This is the kingly man. Great is small for him. He can stand in the highest of high places and see meaning. He would blush to be in business.
That which is not. That which moves is what he stands on. He keeps his deep roots down in the origin. Without this stillness. In soundlessness he alone perceives music. He is in contact with all beings. Without plan he goes his way and all things follow him. He can go down into the lowest of low places and find people. The power of sound is in the metal and Tao in all things. My Master said: This one sees in the dark. In the deep dark he alone sees light.
His knowledge is enfolded in Spirit and he grows great. The king of life goes his way free. Without forethought he comes out. He sent Analysis to look for his pearl. Then he asked Nothingness. The Yellow Emperor said: He looked around Over the edge of the world. On the way home He lost his night-colored pearl. He sent out Science to seek his pearl.
Nothingness Who was not sent Who did no work to find it Had the night-colored pearl! He sent out Logic to seek his pearl. This One-this Being in whom all find power to existIs the Living. Heaven and earth come together in the Unbegun. The sameness is Void. But he who obeys Nature returns through Form and Formless to the Living. And in the Living Joins the unbegun Beginning. From the act of this Formless. And this is Nature.
From the Living. So Nature and the Living meet together in Void. The joining is Sameness. This is Form. Here body embraces and cherishes spirit. The two work together as one.
Like the closing of the bird's beak After its song. The Void is infinite. And in the Nameless was the One. The bird opens its beak and sings its note And then the beak comes together again in Silence. And all is foolishness. To obey is to close the beak and fall into Unbeginning. They made no history. For this reason their deeds have not been narrated. They were honest and righteous without realizing that they were "doing their duty. Rulers were simply the highest branches on the tree.
When a hideous man becomes a father And a son is born to him In the middle of the night He trembles and lights a lamp And runs to look in anguish On that child's face To see whom he resembles. Yet they agree in this: The wood that was cut away Lies unused in the ditch. Covered with green and yellow designs. If we compare the sacrificial vessels with the wood in the ditch vVe find them to differ in appearance: One is more beautiful than the other Yet they are equal in this: So if you compare the robber and the respectable citizen You find that one is.
They are not what I live for: If this is life. Desires unsettle the heart Until the original nature runs amok. These five are enemies of true life. Love of harmonies bewitches the ear And it loses its true hearing. Love of flavors Ruins the taste. How did they lose i t? Here are the five ways: Love of colors bewilders the eye And it fails to see right. Love of perfumes Fills the head with dizziness.
Yet these are what "men of discernment" claim to live for.
The non-action of the wise man is not inaction. It is not studied. It is not shaken by anything. The sage is quiet because he is not moved, Not because he wills to be quiet. Still water is like glass. You can look in it and see the bristles on your chin. It is a perfect level; A carpenter could use it.
If water is so clear, so level, How much more the spirit of man? The heart of the wise man is tranquil. It is the mirror of heaven and earth The glass of everything. Emptiness, stillness, tranquillity, tastelessness, Silence, non-action: This is perfect Tao.
Wise men find here Their resting place. Resting, they are empty. From emptiness comes the unconditioned. From this, the conditioned, the individual things. So from the sage's emptiness, stillness arises: From stillness, action. From action, attainment. From their stillness comes their non-action, which is also action And is, therefore, their attainment. For stillness is joy.
Joy is free from care Fruitful in long years. Joy does all things without concern: For emptiness, stillness, tranquillity, tastelessness, Silence, and non-action Are the root of all things. The world values books, and thinks that in so doing it is valuing Tao. But books contain words only. And yet there is something else which gives value to the books. Not the words only, nor the thought in the words, but something else within the thought, swinging it in a certain direction that words cannot apprehend.
But it is the words themselves that the world values when it commits them to books: Form and color, name and sound, do not reach to reality. That is why: You cannot put this into words: You just have to know how it is. And so. So here I am. The Duke said: If I am neither too easy nor too violent They come out right. You had better give me a good explanation Or else you must die. I cannot even tell my own son exactly how it is done. The authorities. When I make wheels If I go easy.
Still making wheels! The men of old Took all they really knew With them to the grave. If I am too rough. The work is what I want it to be.
And my own son cannot learn it from me. You are only a wheelwright. Such a one am I. Thousands of wild torrents poured furiously into the Yellow River. Gazing out at the far horizon he came to his senses and murmured to the Ocean God: All the rivers pour into it Day and night.
There he looked out over the waves. Then the River God laughed. So downstream he swung. It is never filled. It gives back its waters Day and night. Can you talk about ice To dragonflies? Can you talk about the way of Life To a doctor of philosophy? He who has got himself a hundred ideas thinks he knows more than anybody else.
It surged and flooded its banks until. Among all the millions of men that live on earth. Nothing endures. Greater than all other waters! There is no measure to tell How much greater!
But am I proud of it? What am I under heaven? What am I without Yang and Yin? Compared with the sky I am a little rock. Nothing is final. In floodtime It does not rise.
Smaller still the number of those who having office or fortune. In dry seasons It is not lowered. Why all the disputations of scholars? Why all the wrangling of politicians? There are no fixed limits Time does not stand still. And of all these. A scrub oak On the mountain side: Shall I act As if I were something? It is never emptied. Does not despise the small Or value the great: Where all standards differ How can you compare?
With one glance He takes in past and present. He has experience Of fullness and emptiness. He does not rejoice in success Or lament in failure The game is never over Birth and death are even The terms are not final. Without sorrow for the past Or impatience with the present.
He who is wise sees near and far As the same. All is in movement. You cannot lay hold Of the end or the beginning. You can break down walls with battering rams.
What is smaller than something else is "small. No one thing stands out as "better. But seen in terms of the whole. What is greater than something else is "great. But they cannot catch mice Like terriers or weasels: All creatures have gifts of their own. Fine horses can travel a hundred miles a day. All things have different uses. But you cannot stop holes with them. Stands out in its own way. It can seem to be "better" Than what is compared with it On its own terms.
Each thing. Nothing is best. The white horned owl can catch fleas at midnight And distinguish the tip of a hair. Now in this way. Does not understand the principles Of heaven and earth. He does not know how Things hang together.
Can a man cling to the positive Without any negative In contrast to which it is seen To be positive? If he claims to do so He is a rogue or a madman. Order without disorder. He who moves with the stream of events Is called a wise statesman. Can a man cling only to heaven And know nothing of earth? They are correlative: And cannot even see a mountain.
He who forces his way to power Against the grain Is called tyrant and usurper. Thrones pass From dynasty to dynasty. To refuse one Is to refuse both. But in bright day it stares. All things have varying capacities. Is jealous of the centipede. The centipede is jealous of the snake. Kui said to the centipede: How can you manage a hundred? The wind is jealous of the eye. The eye is jealous of the mind. The snake is jealous of the wind. Is superior to me.
I cannot move as fast As you do with no feet at all. How is this done? Every wing that uses me. What do I need With feet? Blow from the North Sea to the Southern Ocean. Without muscles. They land all over the place Like drops of spit. The true conqueror is he Who is not conquered By the multitude of the small. How do you get there With nothing?
But every eye that remarks me. He does not struggle to make money And does not make a virtue of poverty. Rank and reward Make no appeal to him. He is not always looking For right and wrong Always deciding "Yes" or "No. While he does not follow the crowd He won' t complain of those who do.
Disgrace and shame Do not deter him. He goes his way Without relying on others And does not pride himself On walking alone. Wrapped in silk. In a precious shrine On an altar In the Temple. Venerated by the prince. The Prince of Chu Sent two vice-chancellors With a fonnal document: Offered and canonized Three thousand years ago. Is it better to give up one's life And leave a sacred shell As an object of cult In a cloud of incense Three thousand years. He said: Still watching Pu river.
Or better to live As a plain turtle Dragging its tail in the mud? Looked up. The police searched for him three days and three nights. He will touch no food But the most exquisite Rare fruit. Never alighting Except on certain sacred trees. Saw the Phoenix fly over. Drinks only From clearest springs. He had what he believed to be inside information that Chuang Tzu coveted his post and was intriguing to supplant him.
And screeched with alarm. Clutching the rat to himself In fear and dismay. Chuang said: That is their happiness. Cannot know what you know It follows that you Not being a fish Cannot know what they know. Let us get back To the original question. Is there some way to make life fully worth living. What it counts as joy is health and comfort of body. What should you try to do? What should you seek to avoid? What should you accept? What should you refuse to accept? What should you hate?
What the world values is money. In so doing they are alienated from themselves. If people find that they are deprived of these things. What it condemns is lack of money. Their very concern for enjoyment makes them unhappy. The rich make life intolerable. What it considers misfortune is bodily discomfort and labor. If there is such a way. They are so concerned for their life that their anxiety makes life unbearable. The longer he lives. Shall the course he took be called "good" if.
He was consequently destroyed. But is it a happy thing to have a character and a career that lead to one's own eventual destruction? Take the case of the minister who conscientiously and uprightly opposes an unjust decision of his king! Some say. The ambitious run day and night in pursuit of honors. What bitterness! He lives for what is always out of reach! His thirst for survival in the future makes him incapable of living in the present.
The birth of a man is the birth of his sorrow.
But if he had not stood up for what he believed to be right. You have no further obligation. Yet their good character does not preserve them from unhappiness. I wonder. Thus they are alienated from themselves.
So there is the question. Suppose you admit they are happy.
What about the self-sacrificing officials and scholars? They are honored by the world because they are good. My opinion is that you never find happiness until you stop looking for it. I will hold to the saying that: I answer that these questions do not have an answer. Yet at the same time. Here is how I sum it up: Heaven does nothing: I cannot tell if what the world considers "happiness" is happiness or not.
I cannot accept their standards. Perfect praise is to be without praise. Contentment and well-being at once become possible the moment you cease to act with them in view. For my part.
There is no way of determining such things. I see them carried away headlong. Earth does nothing: All I know is that when I consider the way they go about attaining it. From the union of these two non-doings All actions proceed, All things are made.