《道德真经注(林志坚)》

The Dao (the Way) is exalted and De (Virtue) is precious; Heaven and Earth bear and shelter the myriad things. From ancient times to the present, countless sages and worthies have left behind many scriptures and commentaries. The Daodejing (Jing, scripture) speaks of "emerging into life and entering into death," which is a method for cultivating the self, and of "transforming through Wuwei (non-action)," which is a profound principle for governing the world. Those who clarify the mind and see their true nature will know that the chapter on "the valley spirit never dies" is the most subtle and wondrous; those who govern a state and bring peace to the people will find the chapter on "governing the state with rectitude" deeply meaningful. In human life, nothing matters more than these principles.

In my leisure hours I have quieted my mind to study the wondrous canons of the sages, seeking to trace the origins of the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth. Unmindful of my own shallowness, I have drawn on the beginning and end of Taishang Laojun's Daodejing to connect its parts with one another, placing my commentary beneath the scriptural text and using scripture to explain scripture, in the hope of grasping something of its meaning. Whether I have truly joined the inner and outer layers of the text depends on repeated reading and reflection, through which its profound mystery may be naturally realized. From this, one can discern the gateway into the Dao and the foundation for establishing De.

Sima Guang said: "A Dao that is out of the ordinary cannot be understood by ordinary people." Zhu Xi said: "A Dao that can be put into words is not the constant Dao; a name that can be defined is not the constant name." I have often pondered these words, and I have also thought of the saying, "Those who parade themselves cannot see clearly, and those who stubbornly insist on their own view cannot make the principle manifest." Undeterred by the risk of overstepping propriety, I have tried to cite these sayings against one another; this writing is not worthy of being called a perfect preface and commentary. I hope later readers will not begrudge their corrections, and will delete, amend, and polish it so that it becomes more fitting.

Written on an auspicious day in early summer of the jiawu year of the Zhizheng reign of the Yuan dynasty, by Lin Zhijian, Renzhai of Guangling.

The Dao (the Way) is honored and De (Virtue) is treasured because both accord with what is natural. The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao. I do not know what it was originally called, so I will provisionally name it "Dao." A name that can be uttered is not a constant name. The Dao is hidden and without form, and has no fixed name. The nameless Dao is the beginning of heaven and earth; since the myriad things have an origin, it is regarded as their root.

The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, and three gives birth to the myriad things. The myriad things carry Yin on their backs and embrace Yang, and the Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang surges and mingles, blending into harmony. To understand harmony is to understand the constant Dao. To understand the constant is to be all-embracing; to be all-embracing is to be impartial; to be impartial is to become a true sovereign; to be a true sovereign is to accord with Heaven; to accord with Heaven is to accord with the Dao. The Dao takes its own nature, the natural, as its law.

The Way of Heaven benefits the myriad things without harming them, like the drawing of a bow: what is high is pressed down, what is low is raised up; what is lacking is supplied, and what is excessive is reduced. The human way is often the opposite. Who can offer up their own surplus to the world? Only one who has attained the Dao. The myriad things grow and move, and the Dao does not refuse them; it gives them life and nourishment but does not claim them as its own; it acts but takes no credit; it lets things grow but does not rule over them. This is profound De.

The sage's way of acting is to accomplish without contending, and to hold fast to the great Dao as a standard for the world. Fine words can earn respect, and good conduct can serve as an example for others. As for those who are not good, why cast them away? One who is always skilled at helping people abandons no one; one who is always skilled at treating things well discards nothing. This is called inheriting and embodying the way of clear insight.

Thus, when the Son of Heaven is enthroned and the Three Ducal Ministers (important advisory offices in ancient times) are appointed, even if someone were to present a precious jade disk and a chariot drawn by four horses as gifts, this would not compare to sitting quietly and offering up the Dao. To withdraw once achievements are complete and renown is established accords with the Way of Heaven.

I have heard that one who is skilled at nurturing life will not encounter rhinoceroses or tigers when traveling on land, and will not be harmed by weapons when entering the ranks of battle. The rhinoceros has nowhere to thrust its horn, the tiger nowhere to sink its claws, and the weapon nowhere to lodge its blade. Why is this so? Because such a person does not stand in the realm of death. By concentrating Qi and Jing (essence) and reaching a state of softness, one can become as tender and pure as an infant.

Block the openings of the senses and close the gates through which desire rushes outward; make the heart empty and still, and let the body be filled and strengthened; weaken the will to contend and strengthen the sinews and bones. This is the principle of deep roots and a firm base, through which one endures and lives long.

Governing a large state is like cooking a small fish: do not turn it over too often or interfere too much. Those in high position should be humble and dare not flaunt their power. When the world is governed through the Dao, even ghosts and spirits do not display their power to cause harm. Those who assist a ruler with the Dao do not use force to dominate the world; to act by forceful military means often invites a backlash.

Weapons are instruments of ill omen, not the tools that a gentleman prefers; they are used only when there is no alternative. There is a saying among those who use arms: "I dare not be the one to attack first, but would rather respond; I dare not advance an inch, but would rather retreat a foot." Why? To abandon yielding and strike first often invites death. Therefore the sage says: "I practice Wuwei (non-action), and the people transform themselves; I do not meddle, and the people prosper on their own; I have no excessive desires, and the people naturally become simple; I love stillness, and the people naturally become upright." By not being greedy and by remaining still, the world will settle itself in peace.

Why, then, are the chapters of the Daode Jing arranged in this order? Because the Dao (the Way) is the ancestral source of the myriad things and the root of heaven and earth. The Dao existed before heaven and earth, brought them into being, and has endured without perishing since antiquity. The chapters that speak of the Dao therefore come first.

The Dao gives birth to "One," and One gives birth to "Two." Once Yin-Yang (阴阳) separated, the light and clear qi (气, vital energy) rose to become heaven, and the heavy and turbid qi condensed to become earth. The chapters on the Dao of heaven therefore come next. "Two" in turn gives birth to "Three": as the qi of Yin and Yang rose, descended, and joined, human beings came into being within it. The chapters on the Dao of the sage therefore come third. With this, the Three Powers of heaven, earth, and humanity are complete.

Self-cultivation is the foundation, so the chapter on how one who is skilled at nurturing life cultivates the self follows. Cultivating oneself can then extend to governing the state and bringing peace to the world, so the chapter likening the governing of a large state to cooking a small fish comes later still. When the Dao is put to use, it fills the space between heaven and earth; when it is gathered in, it is stored within the six directions (above, below, and the four quarters). Affairs have beginnings and ends, and the myriad things have roots and branches. The order of the chapters in the main scripture (Zhengjing) simply follows these principles.

Commentary on the Authentic Scripture of the Dao and De (Daode zhenjing zhu), Volume One

Commentary by Lin Zhijian, styled Renzhai, of Guangling, the Great Perfected Man Who Opens the Truth and Propagates the Teaching of the Mysterious Gate

Chapter One: Embodying the Dao

The Dao that can be spoken of is not the constant, unchanging Dao. The Dao follows what is natural.

The name that can be named is not the constant, unchanging name. The Dao is hidden and formless, and it has no fixed name.

The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth; the Dao gives birth to One. The named is the mother of the myriad things; Three gives rise to the myriad things.

One who is constantly free of desire can observe the subtlety of the Dao, reaching the utmost emptiness and holding fast to profound stillness. One who constantly has desire can observe the boundaries where things manifest. These two states, desirelessness and desire, emerge from the same source yet bear different names. Both may be called dark and mysterious, and this is "mysterious sameness" (xuantong, the return of all things to one common source). Mystery upon mystery is the gateway to all subtleties. The gate of the mysterious female (xuanpin, a symbol of the deep source that generates and transforms all things) is the root of heaven and earth.

Chapter Two: Nourishing the Body

When everyone under heaven knows beauty as beauty, the idea of ugliness arises with it; when everyone knows good as good, the idea of what is not good follows. The Dao accords with the Dao.

Those who have De (Virtue) accord with De.

Thus being and non-being give rise to each other. All things under heaven are born from "being," and "being" in turn is born from "non-being."

Difficult and easy complete each other; to treat a matter as too easy is often to meet with still more difficulty. Long and short set each other off, which is the form that has no fixed form. High and low depend on each other, and what is high must rest on what is low. Tone and sound answer one another. The Dao (the Way) is empty and without form, yet it is able to function.

Before and after complete each other; to treat a matter as too easy is often to meet with still more difficulty. Long and short set each other off, which is the form that has no fixed form. High and low depend on each other, and what is high must rest on what is low. Tone and sound answer one another. The Dao is empty and without form, yet it is able to function.

Before and after follow one another. Meet it head-on, and you cannot see its beginning; follow behind it, and you cannot see its end.

Therefore the sage handles affairs by following Wuwei (non-action, that is, not forcing or acting recklessly), and governs through Wuwei. The sage carries out teaching that does not rely on words, issues few commands, and accords with nature.

When the myriad things arise, the sage does not hinder them; when they flourish and grow, the sage lets them grow without claiming them as possessions. The sage acts, yet does not depend on the achievement. The function of the Dao is likewise.

When the work is done, the sage does not take credit. Precisely because the sage does not take credit, the accomplishment does not vanish. To withdraw once success and fame are achieved is the Way of Heaven.

Chapter Three: Bringing Peace to the People

Do not exalt the so-called worthy and capable, so that the people do not contend with one another; let people cherish themselves without thinking themselves noble.

Do not prize rare and hard-to-obtain goods, so that the people do not steal.

Abandon cunning and the pursuit of profit, and thieves and robbers will not appear.

Do not display what arouses desire, and people's hearts will not be disturbed.

Can you cleanse the stray thoughts from your heart, keep your inner vision clear, and be without flaw?

Therefore, when the sage governs the world, the people's minds are made empty and still, and their bellies are made full; they are not led to pursue cunning and private gain, and so thieves and robbers do not appear. Do not display what arouses desire, and people's hearts will not be disturbed.

Can you cleanse the stray thoughts from your heart, keep your inner vision clear, and be without flaw?

Therefore, when the sage governs the world, the Son of Heaven is established; the people's minds are made empty and still, and they are made to eat their fill.

Can you embrace the "One" (the root of the Dao) and not depart from it? Weaken the will to compete and to show strength, bring Jing-Qi (essence and vital energy) to a single focus, and reach softness. To strengthen the sinews and bones while holding to softness is what truly deserves to be called strength.

Let the people have fewer cunning schemes and fewer desires.

In this way, affairs of government can be well ordered.

Let those who believe themselves wise not dare to act rashly.

In caring for the people and governing the state, if one can practice Wuwei (non-action, not forcing one's own subjective will upon things), one can accomplish what needs to be done. When Wuwei is practiced, there is nothing that goes unordered.

If I do not meddle, the people will transform of their own accord.

Chapter 4: The Source Without Origin

The Dao (the Way, the fundamental root by which all things move) is empty and formless, yet its function is inexhaustible. It harmonizes the myriad things and brings them into accord. It seems never to be filled, and for that very reason, even when it is utterly abundant, it still appears empty.

It is as profound as the ancestor of all things, the deep place to which all things return. It blunts its sharp edges and unties tangles. It holds fast to the Dao of ancient times. It softens its radiance and merges with the dust of the world. It is thick like something murky, deep as though barely there, continuing unbroken, as if it has always existed.

I do not know whose offspring the Dao is; I know only that it seems to precede the Lord of Heaven. I do not know its name, and so, reluctantly, I call it "Dao."

Chapter 5: The Use of Emptiness

Heaven and Earth are not partial; they treat the myriad things as straw dogs (chugou, the straw offerings discarded after being used in sacrifice). Heaven and Earth give life to and nourish all things, yet do not claim them as their own. The sage is likewise impartial and treats the people as straw dogs; the sage acts, yet does not take pride in the achievement.

Is the space between Heaven and Earth not like a bellows? It is hollow like a valley; though empty within, it never runs dry, and the more it is worked, the more air flows out without end. Lofty De (Virtue) is open-hearted like a valley. Act in accord with the right moment.

Too many words often lead to exhaustion and embarrassment. Those who merely know how to talk do not truly understand the principle; better to preserve the inner stillness and emptiness. Those who truly understand do not speak lightly or at length.

Chapter 6: The Formation of Images

The Valley Spirit (gushen, the Dao, which is empty and still like a valley yet endlessly generative) never dies. This is the way of long life and enduring vision. It is called the "Mysterious Female" (xuanpin, the deep, maternal power that gives birth to all things). The gateway of the Mysterious Female is the root of Heaven, Earth, and all things.

The Dao is the deep place to which all things return. It continues unbroken, as if it has always existed; one should practice it diligently, and its function will not be exhausted by this.

The Dao is empty and formless, yet its function is inexhaustible.

Chapter 7: Concealing One's Radiance

Heaven endures, and Earth endures. Since ancient times, everything that has attained the Dao or "the One" has endured. The reason Heaven and Earth are able to endure is that

"Embracing the One" (Baoyi, holding fast to the substance of the Dao so that body and mind never depart from it) means being able to remain undivided.

Heaven and earth endure because they do not live for themselves, and so they can last. For this reason the sage puts their own interests last and yet comes to the fore, and places themselves behind others and yet is preserved. Is it not because the sage has no private aims that they are able to fulfill themselves? Thus the sage always treats affairs as difficult, and in the end finds nothing difficult.

"Supreme goodness" (shang shan) is like water. Water nourishes the myriad things without contending with them; it settles in the low places that people dislike, and so it comes close to the Dao. The qualities of water can be borrowed to describe the stages of cultivating the Dao: choose a suitable place to dwell, keep the heart deep and still, treat others with kindness and generosity, keep your word when you speak, govern with order, act with competence, and move in accord with the right moment. Only by not contending can one avoid fault, and this is the De (Virtue/Power) of non-contention.

The highest De is humble and accommodating like a valley. Heaven shows no favorites, yet it constantly aids the good. The practitioner concentrates on harmonizing the breath, or Qi (vital energy), so that body and mind become soft and supple. Among the softest things under heaven, nothing surpasses water. Water can bend and so preserve itself, and in its yielding it overcomes the hard and strong. The practitioner should act with care, as though in awe of neighbors on all four sides; should govern a state by upright methods, handle affairs through Wuwei (non-action), following nature and avoiding rash interference, and should keep to the Dao as it has been followed since ancient times.

When you hold something in your hands, it is better to stop at the right point than to insist on filling it to the brim. One who knows contentment and knows when to stop can avoid danger. A blade honed too sharp cannot keep its edge for long. Sharp weapons are instruments of ill omen. When gold and jade fill the hall, no one can guard them forever; to cherish possessions excessively is certain to bring great cost.

After attaining wealth and honor, one who becomes arrogant brings disaster upon themselves. One who knows contentment will not suffer disgrace. When achievements are accomplished and fame is established, to withdraw into retirement accords with the natural Dao (the Way). Once merit is achieved, one does not claim the credit for oneself.

Chapter 10: The Capacity to Act (Neng Wei)

Can the body and the spirit (Shen) be united as one, without separating? One who is skilled at holding to this state will not lose it. Can one concentrate Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and soften body and mind, until one is like an infant? This speaks of reaching a state of utmost harmony and gentleness.

Can one cleanse the mind so that inner vision is clear and without blemish, with nothing lacking? One who is constantly free of desire can perceive the subtle essence of all things.

In loving the people and governing the state, can one refrain from reckless interference? When I do not act presumptuously, the people are naturally transformed and grow.

The Gate of Heaven (Tianmen, the portal between heaven and earth where Yin-Yang qi mingle and the myriad things come and go) opens and closes in constant change. Can one remain gentle and yielding, without asserting strength? All things carry the Yin on their backs and embrace the Yang, and the qi of Yin and Yang blend in harmony with one another.

Can one reach in every direction and understand the principles of things, yet not cling to knowledge and fixed opinions? Even one who believes they know everything may fall into confusion; this is the profound and subtle principle.

Let the myriad things be born and nurture them, and they rise up together. Give them life without possessing them; act without depending on the merit; raise them without ruling over them. This is called profound De (Virtue).

Chapter 11: The Use of What Is Not (Wu Yong)

Thirty spokes converge on a single hub; it is the empty space at the center of the wheel that allows the wheel to function. Clay is kneaded to make a vessel; it is the hollow within the vessel that allows it to hold things. Doors and windows are cut to build a room; it is the empty space within the room that allows people to live in it.

Thus, what has substance provides benefit, while what is empty provides the actual use.

Chapter [Number Missing]: Restraining Desire (Jian Yu)

Among the myriad things, none fails to revere the Dao and treasure De. The Dao and De are revered not because anyone commanded it, but because they are so by their own nature, spontaneously and of themselves.

The Dao is vast and profound, like an empty valley. It is a seamless whole that existed before heaven and earth, the deep-hidden root of the myriad things. All things obtain the Dao and are born. If one empties the mind, makes it still, and follows the way of Wuwei (non-action), there is nothing that cannot be well governed.

The Dao is like a bellows or a blacksmith's blowing-bag: though hollow within, it can ceaselessly stir the breath. The space between heaven and earth is the same; though it seems empty, it gives rise to function. Too many words only lead to exhaustion, and it is better to hold fast to the emptiness and stillness within the heart.

Governing through Wuwei (non-action), there is nothing that cannot be well governed.

Chapter 12: Restraining Desire

The five colors in their dazzling profusion confuse the eyes, so that one cannot see things clearly; yet ordinary people believe they see perfectly well.

Elaborate and clamorous music dulls the hearing; yet ordinary people suppose they discern every note with perfect clarity.

Excessive pursuit of flavors spoils the sense of taste and leaves a person weary of food and drink.

Racing horses and hunting wild beasts unsettle the mind and drive it to frenzy. Rash conduct costs a ruler the support of his ministers, and impulsive action costs him the dignity proper to his rank.

Rare and precious goods hinder a person's conduct. No calamity is greater than the stirring up of greed.

For this reason, the sage attends to meeting the basic needs of life and does not lose himself in the pleasures of the senses; he therefore discards the latter and chooses the former. He holds to inner substance and does not chase after outward show.

Chapter 13: Disgrace and Favor

Favor and disgrace alike unsettle a person, as though startled. The heart is uneasy, as when one wades through an icy river in winter, treading with great care at every step; or it is like ice on the verge of melting, in a state of instability.

Why do we say that favor and disgrace cause alarm? When favor is received, a person is startled and restless with delight; when favor is lost or disgrace is suffered, a person is likewise alarmed and restless. Favor implies standing in a high position and disgrace implies standing in a low one, so whether one gains or loses, the mind is easily thrown into unrest.

Why do we say that one should honor great misfortune as one honors one's own self? Between reputation and life, which is dearer? People meet with great misfortune because they cling to the self. One who can hold the self lightly is, on the contrary, able to preserve it; and if one no longer clings to the self, what misfortune could remain?

Between gaining and losing, which is the greater cause of worry? Therefore, one who can cherish his own person and, in doing so, be entrusted with the affairs of the world is fit to bear the responsibility of governing the world.

Chapter 14: Praising the Mysterious

Look for it and it cannot be seen: this is called "Yi" (the formless). Listen for it and it cannot be heard: this is called "Xi" (the soundless). Touch it and it cannot be grasped: this is called "Wei" (the subtle). Yi, Xi, and Wei are names used to describe how the Dao (the Way) cannot be perceived through the senses. The great image of the Dao has no definite shape; it cannot be seen, heard, or touched in ordinary ways, and it is difficult to probe or fully pin down.

When one listens with the ears and still feels nothing has been heard, and reaches out with the hand and cannot touch it, this is called "the subtle" (wei). The greatest form, by contrast, has no fixed shape.

These three cannot be exhausted in words. The Dao (the Way) is profound and subtle, penetrating and unobstructed, so deep that it cannot be fathomed, and so the three are blended into one. When the Dao reaches the realm of the utmost One, it is not bright above or dim below; it simply harmonizes its radiance. It stretches on without end and is hard to name, for the Dao has never had a fixed name. Returning to a state without form or thing is what is called "the form of the formless."

In the midst of the dim and indistinct, there seem to be images. The image presented by this formless thing is called "the indistinct." The Dao is precisely this: elusive and hard to grasp. Meet it head-on and you cannot see its head; follow behind it and you cannot see its tail. It is suddenly vast as the ocean, yet drifts without settling, and no one knows where it comes to rest.

Take the Dao of ancient times and use it to steer the myriad things of the present, and you will understand that all things under heaven have their own beginnings, and that the Dao is the root of them all. From this one comes to know the origins of remote antiquity, and this is called grasping the thread of the Dao. From ancient times to the present, the name of the Dao has never vanished.

Chapter Fifteen: Manifesting De (Virtue)

Those of old who excelled at cultivating the Dao were subtle, mysterious, penetrating, and profound, so that others could not see through them. The De (Virtue) they held within was deep and abundant. Precisely because they are so hard to comprehend, one can only describe their appearance with effort.

The Dao is dim and indistinct. Those who cultivate it are as cautious as someone crossing a river on foot in winter, fearful that any movement might bring danger; they are as wary as someone on guard against neighbors on every side. They understand what is bright and manifest, yet hold fast to the dark and hidden. Their bearing is solemn, like that of a visiting guest.

They keep to simplicity, without ornament, and embrace what is genuine. They are also like ice about to melt, loosening and dispersing without stiffness. They are cautious as one crossing a river in winter and sincere as uncarved wood. Outwardly they wear coarse cloth, while within they carry precious jade. Their breadth of mind is like an empty valley.

As the Dao moves through the world, it is as thick as a muddy pool, yet it can harmonize its own radiance. Who can make the murky grow still and remain so for long? Let it settle for a while, and the water gradually clears. Who can find stability and hold it for long? Once there is stability, the myriad things gradually arise. Deep De is exactly like this: held within, and not displayed outwardly.

Those who hold fast to the Dao (the Way) do not seek fullness or completion. What appears most full is, in truth, like emptiness. Precisely because they are not self-satisfied, even when worn down they do not hurry to polish themselves into something brand new. To advance along the Dao seems, strangely, like retreating.

Chapter 16: Returning to the Root

Bring the heart-mind to the utmost emptiness and clarity, and let your breadth of spirit be as open as a valley; hold firmly to stillness. If a lord or king can do this, the myriad things will naturally come to him.

As the myriad things grow and change together, I use an empty and clear mind to observe how they return to their root. Returning is the pattern of the Dao's movement. All things flourish and grow, and in the end each goes back to its own foundation.

To understand how things manifest, one must also turn back and hold fast to their source. Returning to the root is called stillness, and stillness means returning to one's original state of life. Use your own light, then return to the inner clarity. Returning to one's original life is called the constant Dao; the constant Dao circulates and moves without ceasing.

To know the constant Dao is called wisdom. The Dao is level and open to all; those who do not know the constant Dao and act recklessly invite disaster. The upright can turn into the deviant and strange, and the good can turn into the monstrous; the people have been lost in confusion for a very long time.

One who knows the constant Dao is all-embracing. A lord or king who attains the "One" (the root of the Dao) can become the true model for the world. Being all-embracing, he is impartial; being impartial, he can be a true king; a king can accord with Heaven; Heaven can accord with the Dao. The Dao is the deeply hidden root of the myriad things. Follow the Dao and one endures, free from danger for an entire lifetime; turn away from the Dao and one perishes early.

Chapter 17: Pure Simplicity

With the best of rulers, the people merely know that such a ruler exists. With the next best, the people draw near to him and praise him. With the next, the people fear him, and with the next, they despise him. It is when the ruler's good faith is insufficient that the people come to distrust him.

When people of middling capacity hear of the Dao, they half understand and half doubt; others do not believe in it at all. Those who do not understand the constant Dao and act recklessly invite disaster.

Lowly people, on hearing of the Dao (the Way), often burst out laughing. If they did not laugh, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.

Be careful in speech and value saying little. Those who truly understand do not say much. When a task is done, the people all say, "We did this on our own all along." The Dao follows what is natural, that is, it accords with things as they are.

The Shallowness of the Worldly (Chapter 18)

Only after the Great Dao was abandoned did talk of benevolence and righteousness appear. Only after people lost the Dao did they turn to cultivating De (Virtue). When wisdom is exalted, hypocrisy grows along with it. Governing a state through cunning and scheming brings disaster upon it.

Only when family members fall into discord is great stress laid on filial piety and kindness. If one discards the deliberate promotion of benevolence and righteousness, the people can recover a natural filial piety and kindness. Only when a state falls into confusion do so-called loyal ministers stand out. In loving the people and governing the state, can you practice governance through Wuwei (non-action)? "Wuwei" means not interfering rashly, and letting things develop according to their own nature.

Returning to Simplicity (Chapter 19)

Discard the titles of sages and the use of cunning and scheming, and the people will gain many benefits. If I do not interfere rashly, the people will naturally grow prosperous. If I do not deliberately promote benevolence and righteousness, the people will naturally recover filial piety and kindness. If I have no greed, the people will naturally become simple and unadorned. Discard craftiness, deceit, and the pursuit of profit, and thieves and bandits will decrease and even vanish.

Do not prize rare and hard-to-obtain goods. These three principles, if left only in words, are not enough to explain the matter. The bright Dao, when made manifest, seems instead dim and obscure. Therefore, teaching must have something to return to, and I would take this as the root of my teaching.

Keep to simplicity and hold fast to what is genuine. Wear coarse cloth, yet carry a treasure within. Reduce selfishness and desire. Remain constantly free of desire, and you will be able to perceive the subtlety of the Dao.

Different from the Common World (Chapter 20)

Cut off the pursuit of worldly knowledge, and you will have fewer worries. The Dao is deep and subtle, yet it reaches through all things.

How great is the difference between the respectful reply "Wei" and the offhand reply "Ah"? They are the same in essence and differ only in name. And how great is the difference between what people call good and evil? How great, in the end, is the difference between a respectful reply and an offhand one?

What people fear, one must not fail to be wary of. If the people no longer revere authority, severe calamity will arrive. The world is vast and remote, as if without end, and its changes come in an instant, as unfathomable as the sea.

The multitude are merry and bright, as if feasting at a lavish banquet, or climbing a terrace in springtime. If the people no longer revere authority, severe calamity will arrive.

The realm of the great Dao (the Way) is vast and boundless, as though it had no end. It is also deep and indistinct, like the sea.

Everyone else is cheerful and elated, as if attending a lavish feast or climbing a terrace in spring. Each appears prosperous and proud. I alone am cautious and apprehensive, as though no sign had yet appeared, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile.

Those of profound De (Virtue) are as pure as infants. They drift at ease with nothing to rely on, as if not knowing where to return. So it is with the Dao in the world: people all feel they have more than enough, and worldly people seem clever and dazzling, while I alone appear to be lacking.

One who cultivates De looks idle and incapable. Mine is the heart of a fool, simple and unadorned. It is bright, yet does not dazzle.

Worldly people believe themselves discerning, yet they do not truly understand. I alone seem dim. One who understands the Dao looks as though they do not understand. Worldly people distinguish every matter with perfect clarity, but the learned and knowledgeable do not necessarily truly comprehend. I alone am quiet and slow. One who walks the Way seems to be retreating. The Dao is as deep as the sea, drifting without fixed course, its limit unknown.

The greatest squareness has no corners. Everyone believes they have something to rely on, but does not realize that thinking oneself clever is itself the flaw. I alone appear stubborn and unpolished, like someone ignorant of worldly ways. The level Way looks winding instead. I differ from the crowd in that I prize the "Mother" that nourishes all things (that is, the Dao).

The profound virtue of the mysterious is deep and vast, and runs contrary to what the world pursues.

Chapter 21: Emptying the Mind

The highest De shows itself as complete accord with the Dao. Supreme De is like a valley, empty and all-embracing.

The Dao, as a presence, is indistinct and elusive. The greatest image has no fixed form. Within the indistinct there is nonetheless an image. The image of this formless thing is what is called "indistinct." Within the indistinct there also seems to be something substantial. This is the form of that which has no fixed form.

In the depths and darkness lies a subtle and genuine essence. All things arise from "being," and "being" arises from "non-being." The subtle essence of the Dao is utterly real, and within it lies certain evidence. Above, it does not appear bright, and below, it does not appear dark. From ancient times to the present, the name of the Dao has never vanished.

Following the Dao (the Way) as the ancients understood it, one can govern the myriad things of the present and thereby observe the beginning of all things. How do I know what the beginning of all things was like? I know it through this very principle.

All under heaven know that beauty is beauty...

Chapter 22: Embracing Humility

What bends is preserved whole, what is crooked becomes straight, what is hollow becomes full, and what is worn becomes new. Having little, one gains; having much, one is confused.

For this reason, the sage holds fast to the Dao (the fundamental law of all things) and takes it as the standard for the world. When feudal lords and kings attain the Dao, they can become models for all under heaven.

One who does not display himself is able to see clearly; one who displays himself cannot see clearly. One who does not consider himself always right is able to shine; one who considers himself always right cannot shine. One who does not boast of himself is able to achieve merit; one who boasts has no merit. One who is not arrogant endures; one who is arrogant cannot endure.

Precisely because he does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with him, and so he is free from fault.

When the ancients said, "What bends is preserved whole," were these empty words? Truly, one is able to preserve oneself and in the end return to completeness.

To be content in the conditions that others despise is to come close to the Dao.

Chapter 23: Emptiness and Nothingness

Speak little, and accord with nature. Things need not display their fame in order to accomplish something; if one follows the Dao of Wuwei (non-action), matters will naturally be brought to completion.

A violent wind cannot last through a whole morning, and a torrential rain cannot last through a whole day. Who causes these changes? Heaven and Earth. If even the power of Heaven and Earth cannot sustain such things for long, how much less can human beings?

When the Dao is honored, even Heaven and Earth cannot make violent winds and torrential rains continue for long. How much less can human beings?

Heaven too must understand these principles.

Therefore, for those who devote themselves to the Dao (the Way), the Dao treats them in a certain manner, and they respond to the Dao in kind. Whomever the Dao trusts, I also trust; toward those who possess De (Virtue/Power), I respond with De; toward those who do good, I respond with goodness; toward those who lose De, I respond with the loss of De. Some people do not trust me. The Dao gladly welcomes those who identify with the Dao; De gladly welcomes those who identify with De; and the loss of De gladly welcomes those who identify with the loss of De. Where sincerity is lacking, distrust will arise; relying only on fine words is often not trustworthy. One who is intent only on displaying himself ends up unable to see clearly.

Chapter 24: Valuing Humility

One who stands on tiptoe cannot stand steadily, and one who takes overly large strides cannot walk far. One who says too much easily falls into difficulty, and it is better to preserve inner calm and moderation.

Those who only show off cannot see clearly; those who consider themselves right are not made manifest; those who boast of themselves have no merit; those who exalt themselves do not endure. Ordinary people, however, believe they see everything plainly and observe everything clearly, and they also consider themselves in the right, and so they think everyone is able to accomplish something.

Those of shallow De always feel that they have not lost De. In the eyes of the Dao, such conduct is like leftover food and superfluous growths, which people find repugnant. Therefore, one who has the Dao does not act this way.

The most skillful action leaves no trace.

Chapter 25: Emulating the Source

There is a thing, undifferentiated and complete, that came into being before Heaven and Earth. The Dao brings the myriad things into being, and De causes them to grow and nourishes them.

It is silent and soundless, empty and formless; a vast image without any fixed shape. It stands alone and does not change, and it circulates without beginning. Only when the myriad things do not lose their root can they endure. It can serve as the mother of all under Heaven, and this is called the source of Heaven and Earth.

I do not know its original name, so for the time being I give it the name "Dao."

The Dao (the Way) is hidden, obscure, and formless, and it has no fixed name. If forced to give it a name, we call it "the Great."

The Dao takes spontaneity (ziran) as its law.

It is called great because it moves ceaselessly and extends outward; it is said to extend because it reaches far and wide; and it is said to reach far and wide because in the end it returns to its origin. Returning to the origin is the pattern of the Dao's movement.

Thus the Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the ruler is also great. The Dao is held in reverence. Among Heaven and Earth there are four great things, and the ruler is one of them. For this reason the Son of Heaven (Tianzi, the sovereign commissioned to rule all under Heaven) is established.

Humans take Earth as their law, Earth takes Heaven as its law, Heaven takes the Dao as its law, and the Dao follows the state of being so-of-itself. Therefore the myriad things blend together and return to oneness.

Chapter 26: The Weight of De (Virtue)

Gravity is the root of lightness, and the high must have the low as its foundation. Stillness is the master of restlessness, and calm can overcome haste.

Therefore the exemplary person (junzi), though traveling all day, never leaves the wagon that carries the baggage and supplies. The junzi stands alone, holds firm, and does not change lightly; even amid splendid sights, such a person can dwell at ease, remain detached and self-possessed, and steadfastly keep to stillness.

How can a lord of ten thousand chariots treat the world lightly? Only one who cherishes their own person, and to whom the world is entrusted, is worthy of bearing the heavy responsibility of governing it.

Frivolity loses one's ministers, and restlessness loses one's throne. Only through clarity, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action) can one govern the world.

Chapter 27: The Skillful Use of the Dao

One who walks well leaves no ruts or footprints; such a person's movement seems to leave no trace of movement. One who speaks well makes no errors in speech; such a person teaches and transforms others by means of not speaking.

One who calculates well needs no counting rods or tools, and the reckoning is never exhausted. One who closes a door well uses no bolt, yet the door cannot be opened; one who is able to hold fast to the Dao can keep oneself from ever departing from the Dao. One who binds well uses no rope, yet the bundle does not come undone.

The sage is always skilled at helping people, and so no one is abandoned; the sage is also skilled at helping all things, and so nothing is cast aside. This is called "inheriting enlightened insight." Having made use of the light, one then returns to the inner clarity of insight.

Therefore, the good person can serve as a teacher to those who are not good.

The Dao (the Way) is honored by all, and both the good and the not-so-good receive nourishment from it and rely upon it. The Dao nurtures the myriad things through De (Virtue/Power); it does not prize its own teachers, nor does it regard itself as exalted, and it does not treasure its own supports and resources. The Dao moves naturally, following what is so of itself, without deliberate action. Even the most clever may be bewildered here; this is the essence and mystery of the Dao. The level, broad Way can look rugged and hard to travel.

Chapter 28: Returning to Simplicity

One who understands strength yet holds fast to gentleness, since gentleness, through stillness, can often overcome strength, becomes a valley stream for the world. Like the Dao in the world, such a person embraces all things without contending with them. Constant De (enduring, unchanging virtue) is then not lost, and holding to oneness, one does not stray. In this way one returns to the pure, soft state of an infant. A person of profound De is like a newborn child.

One who understands brightness yet keeps to the dark, having light without flaunting it, becomes a model for the world. Holding to oneness, such a person can serve as the standard for all under heaven. Constant De does not err, and to know the constant Way is called wisdom. In this way one returns to the boundless, and one's function is never exhausted.

One who understands glory yet willingly remains in disgrace, for one who knows contentment will not be disgraced, becomes a valley for the world, deep, wide, and all-embracing. Constant De is then complete, and one who knows when to stop meets no danger. In this way one returns to the uncarved block of one's original nature: wearing coarse cloth on the outside, yet holding precious jade within.

When the uncarved Dao is scattered, it becomes particular things. The myriad things were formed in an undivided unity, existing before heaven and earth appeared. When the sage uses it, he becomes the leader of the people. Therefore, truly great governance does not cut things apart.

The highest De (supreme virtue) follows what is natural and does not act deliberately.

Chapter 29: Non-Action

Those who wish to seize the world and manage it by force will, I see, never succeed. In governing the world, one should constantly adopt a way that does not disturb. The world is a sacred vessel, and it cannot be controlled by contrived, forceful effort.

By not acting recklessly, one avoids failure; those who act with deliberate contrivance fail all the more easily, and those who cling tightly will likewise lose what they hold. Precisely because the sage does not attach to things, there is nothing to lose.

Among the myriad things, some move ahead while others follow behind, each depending on the other. Some breathe out gently, others blow forcefully, their sounds answering one another. Some are strong and some weak, yet when a thing reaches the extreme of its strength it turns toward decline. Some stand high and some low; high and low depend on one another, and they can also bring each other down. Therefore the sage discards excess, extravagance, and extremes, values inner substance, and does not pursue outward show.

Chapter 30: Restraining Military Force (Jian Wu Zhang)

One who assists a ruler with the Dao (the Way) does not use armed force to dominate the world. When the world is governed by the Dao, even ghosts and spirits do not manifest to cause harm. Affairs tend to rebound: if you wish to take something, you must first let the other party gain. Where armies have passed, brambles and thorns spring up, and the myriad things suffer for it; therefore one who has the Dao does not act this way.

After a great army has passed, famine years often follow. One who walks well leaves no ruts or footprints; one who acts well seeks only to get the task done, neither boasting of it nor relying on merit to assert strength. When everyone in the world knows to call something "good," that very distinction already contains "not good." Those who are violent and bullying in their bravado rarely meet a good end.

When a task is accomplished, do not boast of it; this is to remove excess. When results are achieved, do not flaunt them; this is to remove extremes. When one has accomplished something, do not become proud; this is to remove extravagance. If one truly has no choice but to employ troops, it should be only because there is no alternative, and one must not rely on power to show strength. When a thing grows too strong it ages, and this is called being out of accord with the Dao; what is out of accord with the Dao soon comes to an end. Those who are hard and domineering belong to the category of those heading toward death.

Chapter 31: Ceasing Military Force (Yan Wu Zhang)

Fine weapons are instruments of ill omen. Even if a weapon is honed again and again to sharpness, it cannot stay sharp for long. Weapons are loathed by the myriad things, and so one who has the Dao does not use them to display strength.

One who assists a ruler with the Dao does not use armed force to claim hegemony over the world. Therefore, the gentleman (junzi) in ordinary life honors the left side, and at auspicious ceremonies also gives precedence to the left. In military affairs, however, the right side is honored, because the right represents matters of ill omen.

Weapons are instruments of ill omen, not the tools of the noble person; only when there is no other choice should they be used.

In governing the world, the general principle should be to do little and disturb little. Once affairs grow tangled and armies are called out at every turn, one is no longer fit to hold the world.

Tranquility and freedom from desire are most to be prized. Even in victory, one should take no pride in it. The sage handles affairs through Wuwei (non-action). To glory in military victory is to take pleasure in killing. Those who do not understand the constant course of how things move, and who act recklessly, will bring disaster upon themselves. One who delights in killing cannot realize their aims in the world; such deeds will in the end invite retribution.

In auspicious matters the right side is honored, and in matters of mourning the right side is honored as well. Good and evil exist in relation to each other. The deputy general stands on the left, and the senior general stands on the right. After a victory, it should be handled in the manner of a funeral rite: where many have been killed, they should be mourned with grief and tears. A victory in war should likewise be received with mourning rites. The side that grieves is the true victor. One who can overcome themselves is strong; one who can overcome others can only be said to have force. Heaven will aid such a person and protect them with compassion.

Chapter 32: The Virtue of the Sage

The Dao (the Way) is constant and nameless. The uncarved block (pu), the original state of the Dao, though small, is something no one in the world dares treat as a subject. If lords and kings could hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things would come to submit of their own accord.

Dao and De (Virtue/Power) then gather and merge into one. The Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth unites and sends down sweet dew; the myriad things turn from shade toward sunlight and harmonize with one another. No one commands them to do so, yet they grow naturally and each finds its proper place. This is the constant state of naturalness.

When the Dao begins to take concrete form, names arise. Once names exist, one should know the beginning and root of things; knowing these, one can grasp the laws of the Dao. One who can recognize these laws will not fall into danger.

The Dao that can be spoken and defined is not the constant Dao.

To understand the constant Dao (the Way) is to be truly wise.

Consider how the Dao moves through the world: it is like streams flowing into rivers, and rivers flowing into the sea.

The great Dao flows everywhere and is present in all places; it can go to the left, and it can go to the right.

Chapter 33: Discerning De (辨德章)

To understand others is to be clever; to understand oneself is to be truly wise.

To overcome others shows strength; to overcome oneself is to be truly powerful.

One who knows contentment is rich, while one who simply hoards gold and jade until the halls are full may not be able to keep them.

One who persists in practice has resolve, and one who keeps advancing along the great Dao will not fall into danger.

One who does not lose their own root will endure; one who can stand alone, guarding the self without changing, will last. When the body dies but the Dao does not perish, that is what deserves to be called long life.

Chapter 34: Entrusting Accomplishment (任成章)

The great Dao flows everywhere and is present in all places; it can go to the left, and it can go to the right.

The most perfectly square thing has no corners.

The myriad things rely on the Dao to grow, yet the Dao does not refuse them, nor does it claim them as its own. Heaven and Earth show no favoritism toward the myriad things; they treat them like the straw offerings used in sacrifice, leaving them to follow their own nature.

When a task is accomplished, one does not claim the credit. To withdraw once success and renown have been achieved is in accord with the Way of Heaven.

The Dao nourishes the myriad things without ruling over them; it gives them life without possessing them. Because it constantly remains in a state free of desire, it can be called "small." Yet the Dao is plain and formless, and though it seems small, the world cannot command it. All things return to it, and still it does not act as their master, so it can also be called "vast."

If lords and kings (hou wang, the feudal lords and sovereigns) can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will transform and flourish of their own accord. The sage never considers themself great, and for that very reason is able to achieve greatness.

Supreme De (Virtue/Power) does not make a show of having De, and for that reason it truly has De.

Chapter 35: Benevolent De (仁德章)

Hold fast to the great Dao, and the people of the world will turn toward it.

If lords and kings can attain "the One" (the root of the Dao), they can become the standard for all under heaven. When people turn toward the great Dao and are not harmed, they find peace, harmony, and security.

All things return to the Great Dao (the Way), yet the Dao does not regard itself as the master of all things.

Pleasing music and delicious food will make passersby stop in their tracks. People all know what goodness is, and they know that goodness is good.

When the Dao is spoken of, it is bland and without flavor. Who can know where it ends? The eye looks for it and cannot see it; the greatest image has no definite shape. The ear listens for it and cannot hear it; the greatest sound is almost without sound. Yet when the Dao is put to use, it can never be used up.

Chapter 36: Subtle Illumination (Weiming)

If you wish to contract something, you must first let it expand; if you wish to weaken it, you must first let it grow strong; if you wish to discard it, you must first let it flourish; if you wish to seize it, you must first give to it. These reversals are precisely the subtle and profound principle at work.

Those who grip tightly and refuse to let go will instead lose what they hold. What seems like loss may in the end bring gain, and what seems like gain may in the end bring loss. This hidden principle is called "subtle illumination" (weiming). The mysterious De (Virtue/Power) is unfathomable.

The soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong, for weakness is the way the Dao operates. A fish cannot leave the deep waters or it will not survive; one who is skilled at holding to the root will not easily lose it. Those who govern a state should understand these principles. The profound and mysterious De is also seen in the softness that overcomes hardness: weakness is the working of the Dao, the fish must not leave the deep pool, and one skilled at guarding will not readily lose the foundation.

The sharp weapons of a state must not be displayed carelessly for others to see.

All under heaven is a sacred vessel, and it cannot be manipulated by force of one's own subjective will.

Chapter 37: On Governing (Weizheng)

The Dao constantly follows what is natural and acts without presumption, yet there is nothing it fails to accomplish. For this reason, the sage handles affairs of government through Wuwei (non-action). If rulers and lords can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will transform of their own accord.

When one embraces the Dao, all under heaven will turn toward it. When things have transformed, if people then give rise to excessive desires, the common people will no longer fear authority. I will bring peace to the world through the Dao, governing by the principle of the nameless and unadorned. People cannot see it, and find it hard even to give it a name. By holding to this nameless simplicity, desires will gradually subside. When I have no greed, the people will naturally be transformed; when I seek nothing rashly and return to stillness, the world will settle into peace of its own accord. When I love tranquility, the people will naturally become upright.

Chapter 38: On De (Lundezhang)

The highest De does not deliberately display its own virtue, and therefore it truly possesses De. Those who understand the Dao may, on the contrary, seem not to understand. The lowest De never forgets to show that it has virtue, and therefore in reality has no true De. Those who boast of themselves cannot endure.

Those of the highest De (Virtue) accord with nature. They do not deliberately set out to do anything, and their actions have no calculated purpose. They keep the mind empty and still, not occupied by stray thoughts.

Those of lower De act, and they act with a definite purpose. To pursue learning is to increase one's knowledge day by day; to cultivate the Dao (the Way) is to diminish desire and fixation day by day.

The highest benevolence acts without any calculated purpose; the highest righteousness acts with a definite purpose. Ordinary people are shrewd and calculating in every matter, yet accomplish nothing of real worth.

The highest propriety strives to promote ritual, but when no one responds, it rolls up its sleeves and forces others to comply. This is already a departure from the Dao.

Thus, only when the Dao is lost does one speak of De; only when De is lost does one speak of benevolence; only after the great Dao has been abandoned is benevolence and righteousness promoted; only when benevolence is lost is righteousness emphasized; only when righteousness is lost is propriety enforced.

What is normal turns abnormal, and what is good turns evil. Those who consider themselves possessed of foresight show only the outward glitter of the Dao, and it is the beginning of folly.

The great Dao is by nature level and broad, yet people prefer shortcuts. Therefore the person of great stature takes their stand on what is substantial and does not linger in what is shallow. They wear coarse cloth, yet carry within them a virtue like precious jade. They value substance over showy splendor and return to simplicity. So they discard the shortcuts and choose the path of sincerity and plainness.

Only I am different from ordinary people.

Here ends the first volume of the Commentary on the Daode Zhenjing (Jing, scripture).

Note on "auspicious matters favor the right": the character "right" here may originally have been "left."

Note on "marquises and kings": the original text mistakenly wrote "marquis" as "zheng."

Commentary on the Daode Zhenjing, Second Volume

Annotated by Lin Zhijian (Renzhai) of Guangling, Great Perfected One who Opens the Truth and Propagates the Teaching of the Mysterious Gate

Chapter 39: The Root of the Law

Those in the past who attained the "One" (the original unified state of the Dao):

Heaven attained the One and so became clear; Earth attained the One and so became stable; the spirits attained the One and so became efficacious...

The best rulers of ancient times governed the world in such a way that the people merely knew that such a ruler existed.

The valley attains the Dao (the Way, the fundamental pattern of all things) and is filled. The Dao gives rise to the myriad things, and the myriad things grow by attaining it; De (Virtue, the manifestation of the Dao within things) nurtures them. Lords and kings who attain the Dao become the rightful standard of the world, and by holding fast to "the One" (the unified source of the Dao) they become a model for all under heaven. In the end, all of this is because they have attained the One. The Dao is the deeply hidden root of all things.

If heaven could not keep its clarity, it would likely split apart; if the Great Dao were abandoned and the earth could not remain at peace, it would likely quake. If people do not understand the constant principle, the spirits cannot manifest their power and would likely fall silent; if the valley could not be filled, it would likely run dry; if the myriad things could not grow, they would likely perish; and if lords and kings could not preserve their honor and high station, they would likely fall into hardship. All of these are consequences of straying from the Great Dao, and they bring one's own faults upon oneself.

Those who are wealthy and honored yet grow proud and complacent lose their foundation. Thus the honored take the lowly as their root, and the lofty must rest upon the base. The heights must have the lowlands as their foundation. One who is skilled at employing others is willing to take the lower place. This is why lords and kings call themselves "the Solitary," "the Few in Virtue," and "the Unworthy" (humble terms used by ancient rulers, meaning lonely, lacking in virtue, and not good).

A person of high De does not regard themselves as virtuous. This is precisely the principle of taking the lowly as one's root. And so it is said: is it not true that the honored take the lowly as their root? When wheels and other parts are brought together, a cart is formed; if one clings only to the individual parts, one cannot obtain a whole cart. Such a person shines without dazzling, and does not wish to appear precious like fine jade, nor crude like a common stone. Such a person is neither easily regarded as honored nor easily regarded as lowly.

Chapter Forty: Returning and Function

Returning again and again is the movement of the Dao; all things go back to their root. Softness and weakness are the way the Dao works. Nurture the Qi (vital energy) with single-minded focus, until body and mind reach a state of harmony.

All things under heaven are born from "Being," and Being is born from "Non-being." The Dao gives birth to the One, the One gives birth to the Two, the Two give birth to the Three, and the Three give birth to the myriad things.

Superior scholars, upon hearing of the Dao (the Way), diligently practice it. Those of old who were skilled in cultivating the Way acted in ways so profound and subtle that their depths could hardly be fathomed. Middling scholars, upon hearing of the Dao, half believe and half doubt; they seem to remember it, and then seem to forget it. Inferior scholars, upon hearing of the Dao, burst into loud laughter. If it were not laughed at in this way, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.

People are often confused, and so the ancients put it this way in their sayings: all things have their own place to which they belong.

The Dao that is bright appears dim, and its light does not dazzle. The Dao that is level appears rugged. One who truly understands knows how to reveal purity and yet keeps to the dark. The Dao that advances appears to retreat, and a truly complete accomplishment appears to be lacking something.

The highest De (Virtue) is open like a valley, and the heart must be kept empty and still. The purest white appears sullied, and the most upright appears bent. Vast De appears insufficient, and what is full appears empty. De that is firmly established appears sluggish, and one who argues most skillfully appears inarticulate. Simple authenticity appears changeable, and the most consummate skill appears clumsy.

The greatest square has no corners. The great Dao flows everywhere and reaches in every direction. A great vessel is completed late; a tree of many arm-spans' girth grows from a tiny sprout. The grandest sound is heard as barely a sound, and words that accord with nature are few. The greatest image has no fixed form; one looks for it and cannot see it.

The great Dao is hidden and nameless, unseen, yet it can be given a name. Only the Dao is good at nurturing all things and helping them to fulfill themselves. The Dao is the deeply concealed foundation of the myriad things.

The Dao gives birth to the One; the One gives birth to the Two; the Two give birth to the Three; and the Three in turn give birth to the myriad things. All things under heaven have a beginning, and take this as the source of all things under heaven. Myriad things attain generation by obtaining the One.

The myriad things carry Yin (shade) on their backs and embrace Yang (light) in their arms, and the Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang mingles and blends to form a state of harmony. By concentrating one's Jing (essence) and Qi in singleness, one can reach a state of softness and gentleness.

The titles people most dislike are "the Orphan," "the Widowed," and "the Unworthy" (bugu, humble terms rulers use for themselves), yet kings and dukes use them to name themselves. The greatest accomplishment appears to be lacking something.

Things sometimes seem to diminish yet in fact gain, and sometimes seem to gain yet in the end suffer loss. Before and after in any matter often turn into one another and follow one another in turn.

What others teach, I also teach: "The violent and domineering do not come to a good end." I take this saying as the root of my teaching.

The softest thing under heaven can move through and act upon the hardest thing under heaven. Nothing is softer than water, yet no one knows of anything that can surpass it in attacking what is hard and strong. That which has no form can enter where there is no gap. Being and non-being give rise to each other.

From this I know that Wuwei (non-action, meaning to accord with nature and not act rashly) is beneficial. The sage acts through Wuwei and teaches without words; few things under heaven can match the benefit that Wuwei brings. Those who understand me are few, and those who can follow my example are all the more precious.

Fame or life: which is closer to you? When the two cannot both be had, which matters more? Life or wealth: which is more valuable? If you harm your life for the sake of possessions, the exchange is a losing one. Gaining or losing: which is the greater cause for anxiety? Examine these gains and losses within yourself.

Excessive love of possessions inevitably exacts a heavy price; relentless striving only causes affairs to fail. The more one hoards and stores away, the heavier the loss will be. Clinging obstinately to what one holds only leads to losing it.

One who knows contentment will not be disgraced; there is no greater calamity than not knowing contentment. One who knows when to stop will not fall into danger, and so can endure for a long time. Only by understanding this principle can one avoid peril.

Truly complete accomplishment seems to be lacking something, yet its function never runs dry. The highest De (Virtue) does not make a show of its own virtue, and therefore it is truly virtuous.

Great fullness seems empty, yet its use is never exhausted. The Dao (the Way) seems empty, yet when put to use it is inexhaustible.

The most upright person seems bent; by yielding and bending, one is able to preserve oneself. The most skillful person seems clumsy, and the purest, most spotless person seems sullied by disgrace. The best debater seems poor at speaking. One who understands the great Dao does not speak much without need.

Movement overcomes cold, and stillness overcomes heat. Acting through Wuwei (non-action), which means following the natural course of things and not interfering rashly, leaves nothing ungoverned. Clarity, stillness, and freedom from desire can become the standard for the world. When one does not crave and remains still, the world will naturally settle into peace.

Chapter 46: Restraining Desire

When the Dao prevails in the world, war horses are sent back to plow the fields and haul manure. Those who assist a ruler with the Dao do not use force to show their strength before the world.

When the Dao does not prevail, war horses are bred in the open countryside. Wherever armies have camped, brambles and thorns spring up.

There is no greater fault than craving; excessive attachment inevitably brings enormous cost. There is no greater calamity than not knowing contentment; one who knows when to stop will not fall into danger. There is no greater error than the constant desire to acquire. Between gaining and losing, which is the greater cause for worry? Therefore, one who knows contentment and takes contentment as enough will always be content. One who knows contentment is truly rich.

Chapter 47: Seeing the Distant

Without going out the door, one can know the world; without traveling in person, one can still come to understand. Without peering out of the window, one can still grasp the Way of Heaven (the natural patterns by which all things operate). This is because one has reached a state that is subtle, profound, and unobstructed.

The farther one seeks outward, the less one knows; the more things one encounters, the more easily the heart becomes confused. Therefore, the sage knows things without traveling, sees clearly and understands thoroughly, discerns the principles behind names without seeing them with their own eyes, and accomplishes tasks without acting rashly. When the work is done, the people all say, "We did this naturally, by ourselves."

Chapter 48: Forgetting Knowledge

In pursuing learning, one's knowledge increases day by day; in cultivating the Dao, one's selfish desires and rash actions decrease day by day. A truly insightful person does not make wide learning and strong memory their business. One keeps reducing until reaching the state of Wuwei; when the emptiness and stillness of the heart reach their utmost, one acts without rashness and yet nothing is left undone.

Acting in accord with the principle of Wuwei, one governs the world with little interference. The state should be governed by the constant Way; once harsh measures and a clamor of decrees arise, one is no longer fit to govern the world. It is when a state falls into disorder that loyal ministers come to light.

Chapter 49: Ren De (Entrusting to Virtue)

The sage has no fixed and unchanging opinions of their own, but takes the hearts and minds of the common people as their own.

A person of De (Virtue) is like the keeper of a contract, holding faithfully to what has been agreed; yet even if such a person takes action, this alone is not enough to win the world.

Those who are good, I treat with goodness; those who are not good, I also treat with goodness, and in this way people are led back to goodness. People all recognize that good deeds deserve to be called good.

Those who keep their word, I trust; those who do not keep their word, I also trust, and in this way people are led back to sincerity. People all recognize that what is admirable deserves to be called admirable.

The sage, living in the world, is cautious and apprehensive, guiding the hearts of all people back to simplicity and naturalness. The great Dao (the Way) is vast and boundless. While the common people fix their attention on sounds and sights, and ordinary folk consider themselves discerning, the sage regards them all as innocent and unspoiled children.

One whose De is profound is like a newborn infant: pure, innocent, and gentle.

Chapter 50: Gui Sheng (Valuing Life)

A person moves from birth toward death. Generally speaking, about three in ten belong to the long-lived, about three in ten belong to the short-lived, and another three in ten are those who might have lived but, through ill-judged action, walk into the realm of death. The soft and yielding belong to the long-lived, while the hard and unyielding are prone to meet death.

Those who do not make the mere pursuit of life the aim of their existence are wiser than those who place exceptional emphasis on nourishing life. Why is this? Because the latter treat their own lives too lavishly, and thereby bring harm upon themselves. The reason the common people so readily walk toward death is precisely that they strive too hard to preserve their lives, and so end up taking death lightly.

It is said that one who is skilled at nurturing life will not encounter rhinoceroses or fierce tigers when traveling on land; one of profound De entering the ranks of an army will not be wounded by weapons. Weapons find no place to apply their blades, the rhinoceros has nowhere to thrust its horn, raptors do not strike, and fierce beasts have nowhere to sink their claws.

When Heaven wishes to protect such a person, it shelters them with compassion. Why is this? Because they have not entered the realm of death.

Heaven's Way shows no favoritism; it consistently aids the good.

Chapter 51: Nurturing De

The Dao (the Way) gives birth to the myriad things, and De (Virtue/Power) nurtures them. Every being obtains "the One" (the unified source of the Dao) and so is able to live. Beings take on their particular forms, and then, according to their own circumstances, grow and reach maturity.

There is a single, undifferentiated presence. For this very reason, none of the myriad things fails to revere the Dao and prize De. The Dao is the deep-lying root of all things. That the Dao is revered and De is treasured is not because anyone commanded it; rather, everything is naturally so of itself. The Dao models itself on what is natural.

Thus the Dao gives birth to the myriad things, and De nurtures them. Following the Dao as it has been since antiquity, it lets beings grow and be raised, brings them into being and tends them, and lets them ripen and become complete. The Dao generates the myriad things, nourishes and shelters them, so as to help them accord with their own natural dispositions. It gives life without possessing, acts without presuming upon its action, and nurtures without ruling. This is called "profound De" (xuande, a far-reaching and selfless virtue).

The Way of Heaven benefits all things and does not harm them.

Chapter 52: Returning to the Source

All under heaven has a beginning, which may be regarded as the mother of all things. Once there is naming, there is the mother of the myriad things. Having known the mother, one can understand her offspring, the myriad things; understanding the myriad things, one can trace back to the ancient beginning. Having come to know the myriad things, one then holds fast to their mother, letting each return to its root, and throughout life one will not fall into danger. Heaven and earth endure.

Block the openings of the senses and shut the doors through which desire enters, do not chase after what people covet, and one will not toil in body or mind throughout life; even if one seems to barely exist, one can remain at ease. But if one opens the senses and busies oneself with affairs, ordinary people become sharp and calculating, and throughout life cannot be saved. To turn away from the Dao is to hasten toward an early end. Desire leaves a person without peace for life; if one can keep stillness, as though barely there, one can rest at ease. If one opens the senses and busies oneself with affairs, ordinary people become sharp and calculating, beyond rescue for life; to turn away from the Dao is to hasten toward an early end.

To see the subtle is called clarity of insight. To penetrate the subtle and hidden principles of the Dao is a profound and mysterious comprehension. To hold to softness and weakness is called strength. This is harmony brought to its utmost. Having used one's brightness, one then returns to inner luminosity, and this function will never be exhausted. To keep calamity from befalling oneself is called following the constant Dao.

If I had even a slight understanding of the Great Way (Dao), the fundamental principle of natural non-action (Wuwei), I would act in accordance with it. My words are easy to understand and easy to practice, yet only a few revere and follow them. People under heaven neither comprehend nor practice the Dao. The Dao is by nature level and broad, yet people prefer shortcuts.

True words are often not pleasing to the ear. When the court is excessively ornate, the cost is enormous: the fields lie overgrown, the granaries stand empty, and wherever armies have encamped, brambles spring up. Wearing splendid clothes is a sign of valuing show, and folly begins from there. Carrying a sharp sword is no better, for even those skilled in arms know that weapons are ill-omened things. Indulging in food and drink dulls the sense of taste, and hoarding wealth and boasting of riches is a form of plunder, contrary to the Dao. Therefore, one who possesses the Dao does not act this way.

What is well established will not be uprooted, and what is well held will not easily slip away. By guarding the "One," the root of the Dao, one never departs from the Way. In this way, the ancestral sacrifices of one's descendants continue unbroken. This is the principle of lasting survival and of long life without decline.

Cultivate the Dao in your own person, and your Virtue (De) will be genuine. Cultivate it in your family, and your De will be abundant. Cultivate it in your village, and your De will endure. Cultivate it in your state, and your De will flourish. Cultivate it throughout the world, and your De will be universal. The Dao transforms and nourishes the myriad things and flows everywhere.

Therefore, one can observe a person through one's own person, a family through one's own family, a village through one's own village, a state through one's own state, and then the world through the world itself. Which is dearer, fame or the body? Only when kin are at odds in a family do filial devotion and parental kindness become apparent. A village holds both good and evil. Only when a state falls into disorder do loyal ministers appear. Observe the world through the world itself...

Therefore, only one who values the world more than his own life can be entrusted with the world; only one who cherishes the world as he cherishes his own life can be given the world to govern.

Look at a village through the village, and you can see what is good and what is bad in it; look at a state through the state, and you can see the condition of the country. It is when a state is dark and in disorder that loyal ministers stand out most clearly. Look at the world through the world, and you can likewise see its true state. How do we know that the condition of the world is truly so? By following this very principle. Thus the sage can understand the world without ever leaving his door.

Chapter 55: Xuanfu (Mysterious Talisman)

One who has accumulated deep Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) may be compared to an infant. Such a person concentrates Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), keeping body and mind soft and harmonious, just as an infant does. Venomous insects do not sting the infant, fierce beasts do not harm it, and predatory birds do not seize it. This means that one who possesses the Dao can preserve oneself and does not fall into danger.

The infant's bones are weak and its sinews soft, yet its grip is firm. The infant does not yet know the union of male and female, yet it stirs, which is a sign of abundant Jing and Qi. Thus, although the myriad things change in bewildering variety, at root they can still be traced back to a single unity. The infant may cry all day without growing hoarse, which shows that body and mind have reached the utmost harmony.

The Dao seems empty, yet its function is inexhaustible. To understand harmony is called "constancy"; to understand constancy is called enlightenment, and this is to accord with the Way of Heaven and to reach the fundamental principle that has held since antiquity. To pursue the nourishing of life and the increasing of one's years through deliberate effort may instead invite calamity; to follow the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) is the true benefit. If the mind forcibly drives the Qi, the result is stiffness and strain. One should instead keep the sinews and bones strong without making them rigid.

When things grow too vigorous, they begin to age. This is called being out of accord with the Dao, and whatever is out of accord with the Dao will soon perish. Therefore, the hard and the forceful belong to the company of death.

Chapter 56: Xuande (Mysterious Virtue)

One who truly understands the Dao does not talk much; those who love to speak at length often do not truly understand. Speaking little accords with what is natural.

Restrain the senses so that external things do not stir the spirit (Shen); close the doors of the mind so that desires cannot enter. Do not chase after what excites the heart, nor insist on arguing and passing judgment, nor strive to display yourself.

Blunt your sharpness and untie the tangles. Only by not contending with others can you avoid error. Soften your own radiance and merge with the dust of the world; though you have brilliance, do not flaunt it. This is called "Xuantong" (Mysterious Sameness: a state of merging with the profound Dao and being indistinct from all things).

Hold fast to the Dao that has endured since antiquity.

So the ruler cannot expect everyone to draw close to him, nor expect everyone to keep their distance; cannot expect everyone to benefit from him, nor expect everyone to be harmed by him; cannot expect everyone to revere him, nor expect everyone to despise him. He is able to delight in what the multitude do not delight in, and does not prize goods that are hard to obtain. He loves himself without exalting himself, and so the world, in turn, holds him in esteem.

Those who understand me are few, and those who can take me as their model are all the more precious.

Chapter 57: Simple Transformation (Chunhua)

To govern a state by the upright Way, without resorting to cunning and scheming, is the blessing of a state. To wage war with deceptive and uncanny strategies, yet govern the state with cunning and scheming, is the calamity of a state. In governing the world, one should follow what is natural (ziran) and interfere as little as possible. The world is often well governed only when it is least disturbed by affairs of government. How do I know this is so? It can be seen from the following phenomena.

From the condition of a single state, one may observe the condition of the world. The more prohibitions and taboos there are in the world, the poorer the people become. The people go hungry because their rulers levy too many taxes. The more sharp weapons the people hold, the more confused and darkened the state becomes. The more rare goods are sought after, the more easily people's conduct is hindered. The more the people display their skills, the more strange and curious objects appear. As cleverness and disputation come into fashion, falsehood grows alongside them.

Therefore the sage says: "If I practice Wuwei (non-action), the people transform themselves of their own accord. If I hold fast to the Dao (the Way), the world turns toward me. If I do not meddle, the people prosper of themselves. If I love stillness, the people set themselves right. If I am free of desire, the people become simple and unadorned." One who cherishes the people and governs the state, and is able to practice Wuwei, will find nothing that cannot be well governed. By holding to the unnamed simplicity, one gives rise to no excessive desires.

Chapter 58: Following Transformation (Shunhua)

When governance is lenient and simple, not harsh or prying, the people are honest and sincere. When governance is severe and exacting, probing into everything, the people instead grow cunning and deceitful. The more numerous and intricate the laws and decrees, the more thieves and bandits there will be.

Within calamity, good fortune often lies hidden, and within good fortune, calamity may lurk. What appears to be a loss may, in the end, turn out to be a gain.

Within misfortune, blessing often lies hidden; within blessing, misfortune often lurks. Give too much, and one may end up losing; look at things with excessive shrewdness, and people grow cunning and never know contentment.

The more numerous and severe the laws and decrees, the more thieves and bandits there will be. Calamity may harbor good fortune, and loss may sometimes bring benefit. Who can know where change finally ends? No one can. What is called the correct way is not fixed and free of deviation. The orthodox can turn into the strange, and the good can turn into the evil.

The great Dao (the Way) is by nature level and broad, yet people prefer shortcuts. People have been lost in confusion for a very long time. The crowd bustles about as if attending a grand banquet. The sage therefore keeps himself upright without using rules to injure others; he has edges and corners but does not wound anyone; he can lead people but does not dominate or control them. He is straightforward without being unrestrained, and radiant without dazzling display. This is what is meant by profound De (Virtue/Power).

Chapter 59: Guarding the Dao

In governing the people and accord with Heaven's Way, nothing is better than moderation and the careful conservation of one's strength. One who holds to this Dao, precisely because he understands restraint, can return early to the root. Returning early to the root is called continually accumulating De. The deeper and more far-reaching the De, the more it accumulates, and the less there is that it cannot overcome; its function, too, will never be exhausted. When there is nothing it cannot overcome, its limits become hard to fathom, and its function cannot be exhausted. One who can grasp this profound virtue is able to govern a state, and so can endure for a long time.

When the root of a state is held fast, the state can last long; the Dao itself also endures. This is the principle of deep roots and firm stems, by which long life and lasting survival are achieved.

Chapter 60: Dwelling in Position

Governing a large state is like cooking a small fish: one should not turn it over too often, nor interfere with it too much. When the world is governed by the Dao, government should be simple and calm, and the people will be sincere and unadorned. When the world is governed by the Dao, even ghosts and spirits (Shen) will not display their power to cause harm; a virtuous ruler does not parade his own virtue, and the spirits do not harm people. When neither ruler nor spirits harm the people, the De of both can come together.

I do not dare to rely on military force to show strength.

The sage does not harm others either. When I follow the Dao (the Way) of Wuwei (non-action), the people are naturally transformed and come to me of their own accord.

Since neither side harms the other, De (Virtue) flows back and forth between them. If one holds fast to the great Dao, all under heaven will turn toward that person.

Chapter 61: The Virtue of Humility

A great state should be like the lower reaches of a river and settle in the low ground. A powerful state ought all the more to be humble.

It is the meeting point where all quarters under heaven converge, just as low-lying land takes in flowing water until it is full.

Among all things under heaven, the female often overcomes the male through stillness and gentleness. One understands the principle of male strength yet keeps to female softness, and moves through the world with a quiet, humble bearing.

A great state is good at being humble, so it can be like the king of a hundred valleys, holding and governing the many things that gather in it.

Therefore, when a great state humbles itself before a small one, it wins the small state's allegiance. When a small state humbles itself before a great one, it wins the great state's acceptance. In this way, both large and small obtain what they desire.

Some states win allegiance by humbling themselves, and others win acceptance by humbling themselves. The great state should wish only to unite and nurture its people, and the small state should wish only to enter the great state's order and serve it. Thus each side obtains what it wants. The underlying principle is the same for both: the stronger party should be the humble one.

One who is good at employing people should likewise treat them with humility.

Chapter 62: Practicing the Dao

The Dao is the deep-hidden source of all things. Among the myriad things, none fails to honor the Dao and treasure De.

The Dao is the treasure of the good, and it is also what protects those who are not good and allows them to preserve themselves. The Dao gives birth to all things, and De nurtures them.

Fine words can be exchanged for respect, and dignified conduct can win the esteem of others. But the sage stores up nothing. The sage uses all that he has to help others, and grows only more abundant for it. The sage is always good at rescuing people, so no one is cast aside, and good at rescuing all things, so nothing is discarded.

The Dao gives birth to all things, and De nurtures them. Fine words can be exchanged for respect.

The sage (a person of virtue) does not hoard wealth for themselves; the more they help others, the more abundant they become.

Treating others with respect and acting with a gentle, humble manner can transform them. One should help people constantly. When faced with those who are not good, why cast them aside? The good can be teachers to those who are not.

Thus, when a Son of Heaven is enthroned and the Three Ducal Ministers (the highest officials who assisted the ruler in ancient times) are appointed, the virtue (De) of the sage should be the standard. Even if someone presents a precious jade disc and a carriage drawn by four horses as tribute, it is better to sit down and expound and practice the Way (Dao).

The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao. The ancients prized the Way because it is profound and deeper still. Why seek gain day after day, as if to use the Dao to be freed from fault? Only one who understands the Way can avoid danger, and so the Dao is honored by all under heaven.

Chapter 63: The Beginning of Beneficence

Act with Wuwei (non-action). Few things under heaven can match the benefit of Wuwei.

Manage affairs without disturbing the people. When rulers refrain from rash interference, the people become naturally prosperous.

Savor the flavorless. The realm the Dao reveals is so plain that it seems to have no taste.

Whether matters are great or small, many or few, answer resentment with kindness. Nurture all things with De. Plan for the difficult while it is still easy; one who thinks a matter easy will often meet with many difficulties.

Accomplishing great things begins with the minute. A tree too thick to embrace grows from a tiny sprout; the hardest undertakings under heaven must begin with what is easy. Difficulty and ease depend on each other.

The great affairs of the world must begin with the small. If I have some understanding of the Dao and follow it, then I will be like the sage, who never regards themselves as doing anything great, and for that very reason is able to achieve greatness.

Do not boast, and you will endure. Promises made lightly are seldom kept. To take ignorance for knowledge is a flaw. To think things easy is often to meet with many difficulties.

Wise words are easy to understand and easy to practice, yet few under heaven truly grasp or carry them out. Therefore the sage always treats matters with gravity, and in the end meets no difficulty.

The hardest undertakings under heaven must begin with what is easy.

Chapter 64: Guarding the Subtle

When things are at rest, they are easy to hold. Peace and tranquility are the most precious.

It is easy to plan while a matter shows no sign of trouble, and one should deal with problems before they arise. What is brittle is easily broken, and what is minute is easily scattered. In cultivating the Dao (the Way), one must gradually reduce stray thoughts and presumptuous action. Guard against trouble before it appears, and bring order before disorder spreads. This is why the sage can begin from what is humble and can also perceive how things will unfold.

A tree that takes both arms to encircle grows from a slender shoot; the great affairs of the world must begin from small details. A nine-story terrace rises from basket after basket of earth, and however tall it becomes, it rests on a low foundation. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step underfoot. To accomplish great things, one must start from the small.

Striving may bring failure, and clinging may bring loss. To take something, one must often first give. The sage follows the natural course and practices Wuwei (non-action), and so does not fail; the sage does not cling or grasp, and so does not lose. The sage acts through non-presumption and achieves great things from small beginnings.

People often fail just as they are about to succeed. If they could treat the ending as carefully as the beginning, they would not ruin their undertakings, and what they hold would stand firm.

Therefore the sage desires what others do not desire and does not prize goods that are hard to obtain; the sage does not crave the dazzling appearance of fine jade. The sage learns what others do not learn and remedies the errors the multitude tend to make. The sage rests in the substance of things and does not chase superficial show, helping all beings grow naturally and never daring to interfere rashly. The Dao always follows its own nature and does not act presumptuously.

Chapter 65: Pure and Simple De (Virtue)

Those in ancient times who were skilled in practicing the Dao did not seek to make the people clever and calculating, but to keep them simple and unadorned. A person of profound De (Virtue/Power) holds it within and does not display it.

The people are hard to govern because they have too much cunning and scheming; rulers who act presumptuously also make the people hard to govern. Thus, to govern a state through cleverness and stratagems is a calamity for the state. When government decrees are strict and harsh, the people become crafty and cannot be met with sincerity. If a state is not governed by cleverness and scheming, it is blessed; when decrees are lenient, simple, and unhurried, the people become simple and honest.

To understand these two ways of governing is to grasp the standard. To know what is bright and yet hold to what is dim, and to take this as the model for the world: to always understand and keep to this model is called "Profound De" (Xuande, a deep and subtle virtue).

To understand the constant principle of the Dao (the Way) is called enlightenment.

The Profound De (Virtue/Power) is deep and far-reaching, profound and then more profound still. It runs contrary to the ordinary state of worldly things; only I am different from the multitude. Only in this way can one arrive at the great principle.

To know what is bright, yet to hold fast to what is dark, is to become a model for all under heaven. To understand and keep to this model constantly is called Profound De.

To understand the constant principle of the Dao is called enlightenment.

The Profound De is deep and far-reaching, profound and then more profound still. It runs contrary to the ordinary state of worldly things; only I am different from the multitude. Only in this way can one arrive at the great accord.

Therefore, in governing the world, one should generally rely on Wuwei (non-action), ruling without disturbing the people and without acting recklessly.

Chapter 66: Placing Oneself Behind

The reason rivers and seas can become the gathering place for the waters of countless valleys is that they excel at occupying the lower position. A person of lofty De is likewise humble, like a valley. Precisely because they excel at staying low, the rivers and seas become the place to which all streams return.

A great state should settle in the low ground, like the lower reaches of a river. Therefore, if the sage wishes to lead the people, they must be humble in speech and not boast of themselves, and so they endure; if they wish to walk ahead of the people, they must place themselves behind in their conduct. By placing themselves behind, they come to stand before the multitude.

Thus, when the sage dwells in a high position, the people do not feel burdened; when the sage stands in front, the people do not feel harmed. The sage neither boasts of themselves nor regards themselves as noble. For this reason the world delights in supporting them and never tires of them.

All people know that beauty is called beauty because ugliness stands as its contrast. Precisely because the sage does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with them. And because they do not contend, they incur no fault.

Chapter 67: The Three Treasures (Three Cherished Virtues)

Everyone under heaven says that my Dao is vast beyond compare, yet it seems unlike ordinary things. The Dao that is clearly understood appears, on the contrary, dim and obscure. It is precisely because the Dao is so boundless that it does not resemble common things; it holds light yet does not flaunt it. If the Dao resembled ordinary things, it would long ago have dwindled into insignificance.

The Dao, as a presence, can only be described as elusive and indistinct. I have three precious treasures, which I hold to and cherish.

It gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things, yet does not claim them as its own; it acts, yet does not rely on its merit; it lets things grow, yet does not control them.

I have three treasures that I hold and protect: the first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put myself ahead of others in the world.

Because of compassion, one can be courageous; only by holding to gentleness can one be called truly strong. Because of frugality, one can be sufficient and generous, and so can cast off extravagance. Because one does not dare to put oneself ahead of others, one can become a leader of the people. One does not rashly take even one step too far forward, and so learns to yield at the proper moment.

Now, if one abandons compassion and seeks only to display strength, that show of force and love of combat will bring about one's own death. If one abandons frugality and seeks only expansion, pride comes easily once wealth and status are gained. If one abandons humility and yielding, and pushes only to be first, one is headed for ruin. Those who are violent and domineering seldom come to a good end.

One who is compassionate will prevail even when going to war, for the soft can overcome the hard. By guarding oneself with compassion, one becomes secure. Heaven will protect those who hold fast to this Dao (the Way), shielding them with compassion. The Dao of Heaven shows no partiality, yet it always aids those who do good.

Chapter 68: Matching Heaven

One who is good at leading armies does not display martial prowess or seek out fights; one who assists a ruler with the Dao does not rely on force to dominate the world. One who is good at fighting does not anger easily, and the weak can overcome the strong. One who is good at defeating enemies does not contend with others, for by stooping and humbling oneself one preserves oneself. One who is good at employing people always takes a lowly position, and those in high station ought to be humbler still.

This is the De (Virtue) of non-contention, and it is also the mark of one who knows how to draw on the strength of others. To know others is wisdom; to know oneself is clarity. To recognize the greatness and smallness of things, each in its proper place, is to accord with the Dao of Heaven, and this has been the fundamental principle since ancient times. One who grasps the Dao of antiquity can put to use its profound and subtle principles.

Chapter 69: Mysterious Application

Those who use troops have a saying: I dare not take the offensive but would rather hold a defensive position; I dare not advance a single step rashly but would rather retreat a foot. Those who abandon humility and yielding in order to scramble to the front are headed for ruin.

This is what is meant by marching without the appearance of an army in formation, rolling up one's sleeves without raising an arm, confronting an enemy as though there were none, and holding weapons as though one held none. In other words, one shows no posture of battle and does not resort to arms lightly. One who is skilled in using troops seeks only the necessary result and then stops.

The greatest calamity is to underestimate the enemy. Which is more precious, reputation or life? Underestimating the enemy may cost me the most precious things I have. The greatest fault is greed. When two armies meet in battle, the side that fights with sorrow in its heart and with caution will prevail. Therefore, even a strong army does not necessarily win.

Chapter 70: Understanding Difficulty

My words are easy to understand and easy to practice. The Dao (the Way), the fundamental principle that operates naturally and constantly, is level and broad, yet no one under heaven truly understands it, and no one truly practices it. The people are confused because of this.

Words have their root, and affairs have their master. When the wisest of rulers governs, the people merely know that such a person exists. It is precisely because the ruler does not display their own cleverness that the people do not understand them.

To know oneself without flaunting oneself: those who understand me are few, and the more people claim to understand, the more confused matters become. Those who take me as a model are rare and valuable. The Dao deserves reverence.

Thus the sage wears coarse cloth on the outside while carrying fine jade within: plain in appearance, yet inwardly holding the precious De (Virtue). One who comprehends the Dao may, on the contrary, look like a fool.

Chapter 71: Knowing Illness

To know that one does not know is wise; to not know yet believe that one knows is a kind of illness. Only by treating this illness as an illness can one be free of its troubles.

Advancing along the Way may look like retreating; lofty De may look insufficient; the level Dao may look rugged. The sage does not suffer from this illness, because the sage regards believing oneself to know as an illness, and so is not troubled by it.

Chapter 72: Cherishing Oneself

When the people no longer fear the ruler's authority, a greater calamity is about to arrive. One who does not grasp the constant patterns of things and acts recklessly will bring about misfortune.

Do not crowd the people out of the places where they live, do not suppress their aspirations, and do not make them weary of their own lives. In this way, people can move along with the natural Dao without falling into danger. Only when people are not weary of their lives can life avoid becoming wearisome.

One who is skilled at holding fast does not easily lose what is held. Therefore the sage knows themself but does not flaunt it, and cherishes themself but does not exalt themself. Thus the sage discards the latter and chooses the former.

Chapter 73: Entrusting to Non-Contrivance

Courage that is bold and reckless may lead to death; those who are hard and strong belong to the company of death. Courage that restrains rashness and acts with caution preserves life; those who are soft and weak belong to the company of life.

Sometimes these two things bring benefit, and sometimes harm. The same is true of good and evil. When Heaven despises something, who can know the reason? There is always a power that specializes in killing and carries out executions. For this reason, even the sage remains very cautious about the matter, fearing only that he might impose punishments recklessly. The Dao of Heaven does not contend, yet it causes good and evil each to reveal themselves.

The Dao (the Way) takes its model from nature. It does not speak much, yet it receives a response; sparing speech is what accords with nature. It does not summon things deliberately, yet they come of their own accord. Its actions are skilled at seizing the right moment, and it handles affairs calmly and plans well, so that what it does is fitting and precise. The net of Heaven's Dao is vast; its mesh seems wide, yet nothing slips through. When Heaven despises something, who can know the reason?

Chapter 74: Overcoming Delusion

If the people do not fear death, how can they be threatened with death? If the people do not even fear authority, then a truly great authority is about to descend upon them. If the people were made to fear death constantly, then those who know fear would not dare to act wantonly; and those who behave strangely and recklessly would bring disaster upon themselves.

If I were to seize them and put them to death, who would still dare to act wantonly? Those who act with aggressive recklessness will be killed, but there is always a power that specializes in killing and carries out executions. To govern the world by the Dao while personally taking the place of that executioner is like taking the place of a master carpenter in cutting wood. One who does not understand this yet believes he understands it suffers from a kind of sickness. Those who cut wood in place of the master carpenter seldom avoid injuring their own hands. Events often turn back and bring retribution upon the one who set them in motion.

Chapter 75: Greed Causes Harm

The people go hungry because their rulers take too much in taxes. The more prohibitions and taboos there are in the world, the poorer the people become. The people are difficult to govern because their rulers act presumptuously; that is why they are hard to govern. The more numerous and elaborate the laws and decrees, the more thieves and bandits there are.

The people take death lightly because their rulers indulge their own lives too lavishly; that is why the people do not fear death. The very actions of the people in their daily lives often carry them toward the brink of death.

A person who can refrain from treating the preservation of health and longevity as life's purpose is wiser than one who clings obsessively to life.

The Dao (the Way) always follows what is natural and does not impose itself through reckless action.

Chapter 76: Warning Against Rigidity

When people are alive, their bodies are soft and supple; when dead, they become stiff and hard. When plants and trees are growing, they are tender and fragile; when they die, they turn dry and brittle. Thus the hard and rigid belong to the realm of death, while the soft and yielding belong to the realm of life. To understand gentleness is to act in accord with the constant Way. When anything reaches the height of its strength, it begins to decline, which does not accord with the pattern of the Dao. Those who are forceful and fond of displaying their strength seldom come to a good end.

A military that is too strong does not easily win victories; a blade ground too sharp cannot stay sharp for long. A tree that grows too hard is easily felled. One who knows when to stop will not fall into danger.

The strong tend to occupy the lower position, while the soft and weak can rise to the higher one. The soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong.

Chapter 77: The Way of Heaven

The Way of Heaven is like the drawing of a bow: where the string is high, it is pressed down; where it is low, it is lifted up; what is in excess is reduced, and what is lacking is supplemented. Thus, reducing what is excessive can bring gain, while adding to what is already excessive may bring loss. The Way of Heaven diminishes the surplus and makes up for the deficiency.

The ways of the human world are not like this, and often run contrary to the Way of Heaven: they take from those who have too little in order to provide for those who already have too much. Who is able to offer their own surplus to nourish the whole world? Only one who possesses the Dao.

The sage does not hoard private wealth; the more they help others, the more abundant they themselves become. The sage acts yet does not presume upon their action, achieves merit yet does not claim credit, and has no wish to display their own worth. The greatest accomplishment appears as though something were lacking.

Chapter 78: Trust and Responsibility

Nothing under heaven is softer or weaker than water.

The highest good is like water.

The first lines, before the chapter headings:

Nothing is better than water at breaking through what is hard and unyielding. That the soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong is something few in the world truly understand, and fewer still can practice.

The greatest accomplishment looks, strangely, like something lacking.

Chapter 78: Renxin (Trust and Responsibility)

Nothing in the world is softer or weaker than water. The highest good is like water. Water can strike against the hard and unyielding, and nothing can surpass it. That the soft overcomes the hard is something for which nothing can substitute.

Thus the soft overcomes the hard, and the weak overcomes the strong. Few people in the world understand this, and fewer can put it into practice. Would one who truly understood fail to know how to act in accord with circumstances?

Therefore the sage says: "One who bears the disgrace of the state may be called the ruler of the state; one who bears the misfortunes of the state may be called the king of the world." The sage takes the position that others despise, and so comes close to the Dao (the Way). Upright words often sound like their opposite. The profound and mysterious De (Virtue) runs contrary to conventional views.

Chapter 79: Renqi (Keeping the Contract)

Even when a great grievance has been reconciled, some resentment usually remains. How can this be called a proper resolution? Whether the matter is large or small, much or little, one should answer grievance with De.

Therefore the sage holds the left half of the tally (one half of a debt record, a symbol of keeping one's word) but does not use it to press others for payment. A person of De keeps to the agreement and does not force others to repay, while a person without De insists on collecting.

Those who accord with the Dao become one with the Dao; those who accord with De become one with De; those who lose the Dao and De become one with loss. The Dao constantly follows its own natural course and does not act presumptuously. The Way of Heaven has no favorites, yet it constantly aids the good.

To the good, I am good; to the not-good, I am also good, so that people may return to goodness. To those who keep their word, I extend trust; to those who do not, I also extend trust, so that people may return to sincerity and good faith.

Chapter 80: Duli (Standing Alone)

Let the state be small and its people few. Even if there are all kinds of tools, let them go unused. Do not exalt reputations for worth and ability, so that the people do not contend with one another. Do not prize rare and costly goods, so that the people do not steal or plunder.

Let the people value their lives and not lightly travel far or move away. When the state is well governed, the people live at peace in places that suit them. Even if there are boats and carriages, there is no need to ride them; even if there are weapons, there is nowhere they need to be displayed or used.

Let the people return to the simple life of knotted cords for keeping records, and once more return to plainness and simplicity.

Let the people find their food sweet, their clothing beautiful, and their dwellings secure, and let them be content with their own customs and way of life.

If I do not disturb them, the people will naturally become prosperous.

Neighboring states may be within sight of one another, and the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs may be heard across the border, yet the people will grow old and die without ever needing to visit each other.

When the hearts of the people are not stirred by song, dance, and music, the world will settle into peace of its own accord.

Chapter Eighty-One: Manifesting Simplicity (Xian Zhi Zhang, the chapter that reveals plainness)

Truthful words are not always pleasing to the ear, and pleasing words are not always truthful.

Toward those who keep their word, I place my trust; toward those who do not, I still treat them with sincerity.

A person of De (Virtue) does not argue or seek to dominate, and one who is skilled at arguing does not necessarily possess De.

Toward the good, I respond with goodwill; toward those who are not good, I also respond with goodwill.

One who is truly wise does not display the breadth of their learning, and one of broad learning is not necessarily truly wise.

To know restraint is, paradoxically, to gain; to grasp for more and seek completeness is to invite confusion.

The sage does not keep wealth for themselves: the more they help others, the more they have.

They are always good at rescuing people.

The more they give to others, the more they receive in return.

They are always good at rescuing all things.

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven benefits all things without harming them.

The Dao deserves reverence, and De deserves to be treasured. The sage follows the Dao, acting without contending with others.

What the sage carries out is precisely the dignity of the Dao and the preciousness of De.