Chinese Taoist philosopher (c. 369–286 BC)
莊子 Zhūangzi (c. 369 BC – c. 286 BC), literally Master Zhuang, was a Chinese philosopher, who is supposed to have lived during the Warring States Period, corresponding to the Hundred Schools of Thought. His name is also transliterated as Zhuang Zi, Zhuang Zhou, Chuang Tzu, Chuang Tse. Chuang was his surname and Tse indicates master; so he would be referred to as Master Chuang. You will also see his name given as "Chuang Chou" or "Zhuang Zhu", this was his proper name, first and last, not an alternate spelling of "Chuang Tzu" or "Zhuangzi".
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Kaikkeuden hengitystä sanotaan tuuleksi, vastasi Tsu Ch'i. Se ei aina liiku, mutta kun se liikkuu, kuuluu kymmenistätuhansista onkaloista raivokasta ujellusta. Etkö ole koskaan kuunnellut sitä: liaoo liaoo... Vuoriston metsien kolkissa ja huipuilla on koloja ja onteloita suurissa puissa, joiden ympärysmitta on sata vaaksaa; jokin on kuin sierain, toinen kuin suu tai korva; jokin on suorakulmainen, toinen pyöreä; jokin kuin huhmar, toinen kuin allas tai lätäkön pohja. Kaikista niistä kuuluu ikään kuin kuohuavan veden pauhua tai kohinaa, ne ulvovat ja huokaavat, mylvivät kuin eläimet, ujeltavat, valittavat ja viheltävät. Edellä kulkeva tuuli laulaa jyy ja perässä seuraava säestää jung. Kun tuuli puhaltaa lempeästi, kuulet hiljaisia sointuja, mutta myrskyn synnyttämät soinnut ovat jyhkeitä; ja kun ankara tuuli asettuu, jokainen onkalo vaikenee. Etkö ole koskaan nähnyt, miten kaikki puut huojuvat huojuvat, taipuvat taipuvat?
The straight tree is the first to be chopped down; the well of sweet water is the first to run dry. Sir, your intention is to display your knowledge in order to astonish the ignorant, and by developing your self, to cast a light upon the crudeness of others. You shine, you positively glow, as if you carried with you the sun and moon. All this is why you cannot avoid disasters.
I have heard the great fulfillment man say, “The boastful have done nothing worthwhile, those who do something worthwhile will see it fade, fame soon disappears.” There are few who can forget success and fame and just return to being ordinary citizens again! The Tao moves all, but the perfect man does not stand in its light, his Virtue moves all, but he does not seek fame. He is empty and plain, and seems crazy. Anonymous, abdicating power, he has no interest in work or fame. So he doesn’t criticize others and they don’t criticize him. The perfect man is never heard, so why, Sir, do you so want to be?
All things have different uses.
Fine horses can travel a hundred miles a day,
But they cannot catch mice
Like terriers or weasels:
All creatures have gifts of their own.
The white horned owl can catch fleas at midnight
And distinguish the tip of a hair,
But in bright day it stares, helpless,
And cannot even see a mountain.
All things have varying capacities.
What is in charge of spreading all this before us? What nets and tethers all of this together? What remains itself unoccupied by any activity and yet shoves all this around to make it happen?
Could it be: there is some mechanism that cannot help itself?
What so lavishly puts all this forth?
What remains itself unoccupied by any activity and yet in a symphony of lascivious joy goads it all on?
Men of the world who value the Way all turn to books. But books are nothing more than words. Words have value; what is of value in words is meaning. Meaning has something it is pursuing, but the thing that it is pursuing cannot be put into words and handed down. The world values words and hands down books but, though the world values them, I do not think them worth valuing. What the world takes to be values is not real value.