Laozi
古之善為道者，微妙玄通， 深不可識。夫唯不可識， 故強為之容。豫兮若冬涉川； 猶兮若畏四鄰；儼兮其若容； 渙兮若冰之將釋；敦兮其若樸； 曠兮其若谷；混兮其若濁； 孰能濁以靜之徐清？ 孰能安以久動之徐生？ 保此道者，不欲盈。 夫唯不盈，故能蔽不新成。
James Legge
The skilful masters (of the Tao) in old times, with a subtle and exquisite penetration, comprehended its mysteries, and were deep (also) so as to elude men’s knowledge. As they were thus beyond men’s knowledge, I will make an effort to describe of what sort they appeared to be.
Shrinking looked they like those who wade through a stream in winter; irresolute like those who are afraid of all around them; grave like a guest (in awe of his host); evanescent like ice that is melting away; unpretentious like wood that has not been fashioned into anything; vacant like a valley, and dull like muddy water.
Who can (make) the muddy water (clear)? Let it be still, and it will gradually become clear. Who can secure the condition of rest? Let movement go on, and the condition of rest will gradually arise.
They who preserve this method of the Tao do not wish to be full (of themselves). It is through their not being full of themselves that they can afford to seem worn and not appear new and complete.
Victor H. Mair
Those of old who were adept in the Way were subtly profound and mysteriously perceptive, So deep they could not be recognized. Now, Because they could not be recognized, One can describe their appearance only with effort: hesitant, as though crossing a stream in winter; cautious, as though fearful of their neighbors all around; solemn, as though guests in someone else’s house; shrinking, as ice when it melts; plain, as an unhewn log; muddled, as turbid waters; expansive, as a broad valley. If turbid waters are stilled, they will gradually become clear; If something inert is set in motion, it will gradually come to life. Those who preserved this Way did not wish to be full. Now, Simply because they did not wish to be full, they could be threadbare and incomplete.
C. Spurgeon Medhurst
Profound indeed were the most excellent among the ancients, penetrating, fathomless; inasmuch as they were fathomless it becomes necessary to employ far fetched symbols when speaking of them.
Irresolute—as if fording a stream in winter.
Timid—as though fearful of their neighbors.
Grave—as if they were guests. [^1]
Elusive—like ice about to melt.
Simple—like raw material. [^2]
Expansive—like the space between hills.
Turbid—like muddy water. [^3]
Who can still the turbid and make it gradually clear; or quiet the active so that by degrees it shall become productive? Only he who keeps this Tao, without desiring fullness. If one is not full it is possible to be antiquated and not newly fashioned. [^4]
The innerness of no faith can be reached unless there is a profound sympathy with its devotees, the public statements often being but veils, hiding more than they reveal. This was so in Egypt, Greece, Rome, India and Persia; even “the aborigines of Central Australia to-day have their secret rites and doctrines revealed only to the males of the tribe after passing the manhood tests, and rigidly concealed, not only from the outside world, but from their own women and children.” Jesus talked in parables to the crowd, explanations were reserved for His disciples. In the early Christian centuries truths unspoken in the public pulpits were revealed to a disciplina arcani. So also Lao-tzu is more impressed with the reticence of the ancients than with their eloquence. Only that self-restrained silence, born of “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,” and which seeks no earthly “fullness,” can clear turbidity and make outward activity wholly productive without any destructive element. For such a storm is as a calm, or the echo of distant music.
[^1] Chinese etiquette requires that a guest shall preserve due gravity in the presence of his host, to express his consciousness that he is where he is not himself a master, and must therefore guard himself.
[^2] “Simplicity is the highest quality of expression. It is that quality to which art comes in its supreme moments. It marks the final stage of growth. It is the rarest, as it is the most precious, result which men secure in their self-training.”
[^3] This seven-fold illustration marks a certain progression-1. There is uncertainty of purpose. 2. The naturally resultant timidity of expression. 3. Yet a consciousness of a certain kind of standing. 4. But the position allows of no self assertion. 5. Nevertheless there is an inner center round which the whole man focuses his strength. 6. And from this inner center of self-consciousness there springs an all-embracing comprehensiveness. 7. This comprehensiveness because including All is as No-Thing (Turbid, like mudded water.)
[^4] All external conditions alike. Old age as serviceable as youth; youth as fruitful as old age.
Ursula K. Le Guin
Once upon a time people who knew the Way were subtle, spiritual, mysterious, penetrating, unfathomable.
Since they’re inexplicable I can only say what they seemed like: Cautious, oh yes, as if wading through a winter river. Alert, as if afraid of the neighbors. Polite and quiet, like houseguests. Elusive, like melting ice. Blank, like uncut wood. Empty, like valleys. Mysterious, oh yes, they were like troubled water.
Who can by stillness, little by little make what is troubled grow clear? Who can by movement, little by little make what is still grow quick?
To follow the Way is not to need fulfillment. Unfulfilled, one may live on needing no renewal.
Note UKLG: In the first stanza we see the followers of the Way in ancient times or illo tempore, remote and inaccessible; but the second stanza brings them close and alive in a series of marvelous smiles. (I am particularly fond of the polite and quiet houseguests.) The images of the valley and of uncut or uncarved wood will recur again and again.