Tao Te Ching
§ About this work
Tao Te Ching moves through three spans. The first (Chapters 1–37) opens by declaring the Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring Tao and the name that can be named not the enduring name; nameless it originates heaven and earth, named it mothers all things, both aspects called the Mystery. It develops paired opposites—beauty and ugliness, existence and non-existence—and the sage who acts without doing and teaches without speech, empties minds and fills bellies, and puts his person last. The Tao is likened to a vessel's emptiness, water, and a bellows; things return to their root; when the Great Tao ceased, benevolence arose. Tao, Heaven, Earth, and the king are named the four great; arms are instruments of evil omen and the victor mourns; the Tao does nothing yet leaves nothing undone. The second span (Chapters 38–74) traces how, when the Tao was lost, attributes, benevolence, righteousness, and propriety successively appeared, and lists things that got the One. The Tao produced One, Two, Three, and all things; it moves by contraries. Three classes of scholars respond differently. It weighs fame against life, praises contentment, treats good and not-good alike, and names three precious things—gentleness, economy, shrinking from precedence. Governing a great state resembles cooking small fish; the female overcomes the male by stillness; Heaven's net lets nothing escape. The closing span (Chapters 75–81) attributes famine and unrest to superiors, contrasts the supple living with the firm dead, likens Heaven's Way to bending a bow, ranks water above firm things, and depicts a small weaponless state. It ends: sincere words are not fine; the sage does not accumulate.
The opening states the Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring Tao, and the name that can be named is not the enduring name; nameless it originates heaven and earth, named it mothers all things; both aspects are called the Mystery. Knowing beauty implies ugliness; existence and non-existence give birth to each other; the sage acts without doing and teaches without speech. Not valuing able men keeps people from rivalry; the sage empties minds and fills bellies. The Tao is like a vessel's emptiness, seeming prior to God. Heaven and earth are not benevolent, treating things as grass dogs; the space between is a bellows. The valley spirit is the female mystery. Heaven and earth endure by not living for themselves; the sage puts his person last. Highest excellence is like water. When work is done, withdrawing is Heaven's way. Souls held in embrace become as a babe. Empty space gives the wheel, vessel, and room their use. Five colours blind the eyes. Favour and disgrace are feared; the body brings calamity. What cannot be seen, heard, or grasped blends into the One. Old masters were subtle; muddy water clears through stillness. Things return to their root. In highest antiquity people did not know their rulers. When the Great Tao ceased, benevolence arose. Renouncing sageness benefits people. Renouncing learning ends troubles; the speaker alone seems listless, valuing the nursing-mother. Grand forms come from Tao. The partial becomes complete. Abstaining from speech follows nature. Standing on tiptoe is unstable. Something undefined preceded Heaven and Earth, named the Tao, the Great; four are great: Tao, Heaven, Earth, and the king. Gravity roots lightness. The skilful leave no traces; the sage saves all. Knowing manhood, one keeps the female. The kingdom cannot be seized by doing. Assisting a lord is not by arms. Arms are instruments of evil omen; the victor mourns. The unchanging Tao has no name. Knowing self is intelligent. The Great Tao pervades all, claiming nothing. Holding the Great Image, the world repairs to one. Weakening is preceded by strengthening; the soft overcomes the hard. The Tao does nothing, yet nothing is left undone; nameless simplicity brings rest.
Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37The text describes those possessing the Tao's attributes in highest degree not seeking to show them, and traces the sequence by which, when the Tao was lost, attributes, benevolence, righteousness, and propriety successively appeared; the Great man dwells with fruit, not flower. It lists things that got the One—Heaven, Earth, Spirits, Valleys, creatures, princes—and notes princes call themselves "Orphans." The movement of the Tao proceeds by contraries. Scholars of three classes respond to the Tao differently. The Tao produced One, Two, Three, and All things; the violent do not die naturally. The softest overcomes the hardest. It weighs fame against life, praising contentment. Constant action overcomes cold, stillness heat. When the Tao prevails, horses draw dung-carts; when disregarded, war-horses breed. One understands the world without leaving the door. Learning increases, the Tao diminishes doing. The sage makes the people's mind his own, treating good and not-good alike well. Of ten men, three minister to life, three to death. The Tao produces and nourishes all things without claiming them. It is the mother of all. The text warns against boastful government and calls such princes robbers. It describes the Tao's effect observed in person, family, state, kingdom. He with abundant attributes resembles an infant. He who knows does not speak. Prohibitions increase poverty. Moderation brings return. Governing a great state resembles cooking small fish. A great state is like a low-lying stream; the female overcomes the male by stillness. The text names three precious things—gentleness, economy, shrinking from precedence. The skilled warrior shows no martial port, preferring guest to host. The sage carries jade beneath hair cloth. Heaven's net lets nothing escape. One who inflicts death in place of the presiding One cuts his own hands.
Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Chapter 55Chapter 56Chapter 57Chapter 58Chapter 59Chapter 60Chapter 61Chapter 62Chapter 63Chapter 64Chapter 65Chapter 66Chapter 67Chapter 68Chapter 69Chapter 70Chapter 71Chapter 72Chapter 73Chapter 74The text attributes the people's famine to their superiors' taxes, their difficulty to govern to superiors' agency, and their disregard for death to hard labor. It states man is supple at birth, firm at death, likening this to trees; firmness accompanies death, softness life. It compares Heaven's Way to bending a bow, diminishing excess and supplementing deficiency, unlike man. It ranks water above firm things. It describes the sage keeping the left-hand record. It describes a small state without weapons or intercourse. It closes: sincere words are not fine; the sage does not accumulate.
Chapter 75Chapter 76Chapter 77Chapter 78Chapter 79Chapter 80Chapter 81