Heshang Gong Edition
Chapter 1
The Tao that can be spoken of is not the constant Tao. The name that can be named is not the constant name. The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth; the named is the mother of the myriad things. Therefore, be constantly without desire, so as to observe its subtleties; be constantly with desire, so as to observe its boundaries. These two come forth from the same source but have different names; together they are called the mystery. Mystery upon mystery—the gateway to all subtleties.
Chapter 2
When everyone under heaven knows beauty as beauty, there is already ugliness. When all know goodness as goodness, there is already what is not good. Thus being and non-being give birth to each other, the difficult and the easy complete each other, the long and the short shape each other, the high and the low incline toward each other, tone and voice harmonize with each other, and front and back follow each other. Therefore the sage abides in the affairs of non-action (wuwei) and practices the teaching without words. The myriad things arise, and he does not turn them away; he gives them life but does not possess them; he acts but does not rely on it; his work is accomplished, yet he does not dwell on it. Precisely because he does not dwell on it, it never leaves him.
Chapter 3
Do not exalt the worthy, and the people will not contend. Do not prize goods that are hard to obtain, and the people will not become thieves. Do not display what is desirable, and their hearts will not be disturbed. Therefore the sage governs by emptying their hearts and filling their bellies, weakening their ambitions and strengthening their bones. He constantly keeps the people without knowledge and without desire, and ensures that the clever dare not act. Act through non-action, and nothing will be ungoverned.
Chapter 4
The Tao is empty, yet in use it is never filled. Deep, it seems to be the ancestor of the myriad things. It blunts the sharp, unties the tangled, softens the glare, and merges with the dust. Clear and still, it seems to be ever present. I do not know whose child it is; it appears to precede the Lord on High.
Chapter 5
Heaven and earth are not humane; they treat the myriad things as straw dogs. The sage is not humane; he treats the common people as straw dogs. The space between heaven and earth—is it not like a bellows? Empty yet never exhausted, the more it moves, the more comes forth. Much speech soon comes to its end; better to hold to the center.
Chapter 6
The valley spirit does not die; it is called the mysterious female. The gateway of the mysterious female is called the root of heaven and earth. Continuous, as if ever present, use it and it is never exhausted.
Chapter 7
Heaven is long-lasting and earth endures. The reason heaven and earth can last long and endure is that they do not live for themselves; therefore they can live long. Therefore the sage puts himself last and yet finds himself first; he treats his own person as outside himself and yet his person is preserved. Is it not because he is selfless? Therefore he can fulfill his own self.
Chapter 8
The highest good is like water. Water is good at benefiting the myriad things without contending, and it dwells in places that people disdain; therefore it is close to the Tao. In dwelling, be good at choosing the ground; in the heart, be good at being deep; in giving, be good at kindness; in speech, be good at trustworthiness; in governing, be good at bringing order; in affairs, be good at ability; in action, be good at timing. Precisely because one does not contend, there is no blame.
Chapter 9
To hold a vessel and fill it to the brim is not as good as stopping in time. A blade honed to sharpness cannot keep its edge for long. A hall filled with gold and jade cannot be guarded. Wealth and rank accompanied by arrogance bring about their own ruin. To withdraw once the work is done and fame achieved—this is the Tao of heaven.
Chapter 10
Carrying the soul and embracing the One, can you keep them from parting? Concentrating the qi and attaining suppleness, can you be like an infant? Cleansing the mysterious mirror, can you make it flawless? Loving the country and governing the people, can you do so without action? As the gate of heaven opens and closes, can you play the female? Understanding clearly and reaching in all four directions, can you be without knowledge? To give birth to them and to nourish them, to give birth without possessing, to act without relying on it, to lead without ruling—this is called mysterious virtue.
Chapter 11
Thirty spokes share one hub; it is in the emptiness there that the usefulness of the cart lies. Clay is shaped into a vessel; it is in the emptiness there that the usefulness of the vessel lies. Doors and windows are cut to make a room; it is in the emptiness there that the usefulness of the room lies. Therefore what is there provides the benefit, and what is not there provides the use.
Chapter 12
The five colors blind the eye; the five tones deafen the ear; the five flavors dull the palate; galloping and hunting madden the heart; goods that are hard to obtain hinder one's conduct. Therefore the sage cares for the belly and not for the eyes; thus he rejects that and takes this.
Chapter 13
Favor and disgrace alike are alarming; value great trouble as you value your own body. What is meant by “favor and disgrace alike are alarming”? Favor is regarded as superior and disgrace as inferior; to gain it is alarming, and to lose it is alarming. This is what is meant by “favor and disgrace alike are alarming.” What is meant by “value great trouble as you value your own body”? The reason I have great trouble is that I have a body. If I had no body, what trouble could I have? Therefore one who values his body as much as the world may be entrusted with the world; one who loves his body as much as the world may be given charge of the world.
Chapter 14
Looked at but not seen, it is called the invisible. Listened to but not heard, it is called the inaudible. Grasped at but not obtained, it is called the intangible. These three cannot be fathomed, and so they merge into one. Its upper side is not bright; its lower side is not dark. Endless and unbroken, it cannot be named, and it returns again to nothingness. This is called the shape without shape, the image without substance; this is called the elusive and evasive. Meet it and you do not see its head; follow it and you do not see its back. Hold fast to the Tao of old in order to master the things of today. To be able to know the ancient beginning—this is called the thread of the Tao.
Chapter 15
Those of old who were good at practicing the Tao were subtle, wondrous, mysterious, and penetrating, so deep that they could not be known. Precisely because they could not be known, I am forced to describe them: hesitant, as if crossing a river in winter; wary, as if fearing their neighbors on all sides; reserved, like a guest; yielding, like ice about to melt; genuine, like uncarved wood; open, like a valley; murky, like muddy water. Who can make the muddy gradually clear by stilling it? Who can make the still gradually come to life by long movement? One who preserves this Tao does not wish to be full. Precisely because he is not full, he can remain worn and not be newly made.
Chapter 16
Attain the utmost emptiness; hold firmly to stillness. The myriad things arise together, and I watch their return. Things flourish in abundance, and each returns to its root. Returning to the root is called stillness; stillness is called returning to one's destiny. Returning to one's destiny is called the constant; knowing the constant is called illumination. Not knowing the constant, one acts recklessly and meets misfortune. Knowing the constant, one is all-embracing; being all-embracing, one is impartial; being impartial, one is kingly; being kingly, one is at one with heaven; being at one with heaven, one is at one with the Tao; being at one with the Tao, one endures, and to the end of one's life one is free from danger.
Chapter 17
Of the very highest rulers, those below know only that they exist. Next come those whom the people love and praise. Next come those whom they fear. Next come those whom they despise. When trust is insufficient, there is distrust. Hesitant, the best ruler values his words. When the work is accomplished and affairs are completed, the common people all say, “We are so of ourselves.”
Chapter 18
When the Great Tao is abandoned, there arise humaneness and righteousness. When cleverness and wisdom appear, there arises great hypocrisy. When the six relations are not in harmony, there arise filial piety and parental kindness. When the state is in confusion and disorder, there arise loyal ministers.
Chapter 19
Renounce sageliness and discard cleverness, and the people will benefit a hundredfold. Renounce humaneness and discard righteousness, and the people will return to filial piety and kindness. Renounce artifice and discard profit, and there will be no thieves or robbers. These three, taken as outward adornment, are not sufficient; therefore let the people have something to hold on to: manifest plainness and embrace simplicity, lessen selfishness and reduce desires.
Chapter 20
Renounce learning and there will be no anxiety. Between “yes” and “yea,” how much difference is there? Between the beautiful and the ugly, what is the difference? What others fear, one cannot but fear. Vast and boundless, it has no end! The multitude are merry, as if feasting at a great sacrifice, as if climbing a terrace in spring. I alone am placid, showing no sign, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile; drifting, as if I had nowhere to return. The multitude all have more than enough, while I alone seem to have lost everything. Mine is the heart of a fool indeed—so muddled! The multitude are bright and clear; I alone seem dim. The multitude are sharp and discerning; I alone am dull and closed. Vague, like the sea; drifting, as if without a resting place. The multitude all have their uses, while I alone am stubborn and uncouth. I alone differ from others, and I value being nourished by the mother.
Chapter 21
The bearing of great virtue follows the Tao alone. The Tao as a thing is elusive and evasive. Elusive and evasive, yet within it there is a thing; evasive and elusive, yet within it there is an image. Dim and dark, yet within it there is an essence; this essence is utterly real, and within it there is trustworthiness. From the present back to antiquity, its name has never departed, and by it we view the origin of all things. How do I know the nature of the origin of all things? By this.