Nothing,
nothing at all is born,
dies, the shell says again and
again from the depth of its hollowness.
Its body swept off by tide — so what? It sleeps
in sand, drying in sunlight, bathing in moonlight.
Nothing to do with sea or anything else.
Over and over it vanishes
with the wave.
Please
let me remind you,
who study the inconceivable:
Your time is running fast.
Don’t ignore
it.
Act by
not acting,
accomplish by not
straining, understand
by not knowing. Regard the
humble as exalted and the exalted
as humble. Remedy injury
with tranquil
repair.
Meet
the difficult while
it is still easy; cross the
universe one step at a time.
Because the sage doesn’t try
anything too big, she’s able
to accomplish big
things.
Those
who commit lightly
seldom come through.
Those who think everything
is easy will find everything hard.
The sage understands that
everything is difficult, and
thus in the end has no
difficulties.
from The Tao te Ching of Lao Tzu,
ebooks & apps of the Tao the Ching, I Ching,
Hua hu Ching, and Art of War for
You
can now buy
Tao te Ching as part of a
five-app bundle of Taoist classics
for iPhone or iPad for less than
the cost of one hardcover
book.
Gently I weep for my mind,
caught in its illusion of ownership.
Mind, you’re not who you think you are.
You’re dancing over a pit. Soon you’ll fall through,
and these things you’ve valued and collected will
be left behind. My sweet dear, do you
understand this, and if you do,
how does your food
taste?
Try
to praise
the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads
of exiles.
You
must praise
the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts
and ships; one of them had a long trip
ahead of it, while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees going nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners
sing joyfully.
You
should praise
the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when
we were together in a white room and
the curtain fluttered. Return in thought to
the concert where music flared. You
gathered acorns in the park in
autumn and leaves eddied
over the earth’s
scars.
Praise
the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays
and vanishes and
returns.