Chuang Tzu's Poems
1. The Empty Boat
When one rules others, confusion follows; when one is ruled by others, sorrow follows.
The wise, therefore, choose neither: they neither influence nor are influenced.
Freedom from confusion and grief comes by living with Tao in inner emptiness.
If you’re crossing a river and an empty boat drifts into yours,
even an angry man will not shout.
But if he sees someone inside that boat, he will yell again and again,
and curse louder each time, all because he believes there’s someone there.
If only the boat were empty,
there would be no shouting and no anger.
If you can empty your own boat while crossing the river of life,
no one will oppose you, no one will seek to harm you.
The straight tree is the first to be chopped down,
the pure spring is the first to be drained.
Those eager to display their wisdom only invite calamity.
The truly wise man is content in his ordinariness.
He achieves nothing, he claims nothing,
he judges no one, and no one judges him.
He flows quietly like Tao itself: invisible, unresisting, and free.
His boat is empty.
2. Means and Ends
The trap exists for the fish, and when the fish are caught, the trap is forgotten.
Words exist for meaning, and when meaning is seen, the words are forgotten.
Where can I find one who has forgotten both words and meaning?
He is the one I wish to meet.
3. The Need to Win
When the archer shoots for pure joy, his aim is true and effortless.
When he shoots for a prize, his mind trembles.
When gold is at stake, he goes blind; he sees two targets.
His skill is unchanged, but the reward divides him.
He becomes anxious to win, and that very desire robs him of all power.
4. The Useless
Hui Tzu said to Chuang Tzu, “All your teaching centers on what has no use.”
Chuang Tzu replied,
“If you can’t appreciate the useless, you’ll never understand what’s truly useful.
The earth is vast and generous, yet a man uses only the patch he stands on.
Remove everything else, let a gulf open around his feet — how long will he stand?”
Hui Tzu said, “Then nothing could be used.”
Chuang Tzu smiled:
“Exactly. The so-called useless is what makes everything possible.”
5. The Man of Tao
The man of Tao moves freely, harming none,
and yet he does not know himself to be kind.
He does not chase wealth,
nor take pride in being poor.
He walks his path quietly,
needing neither approval nor company.
The man of Tao remains unknown.
His virtue leaves no mark.
His self is no self.
And the greatest of men is nobody.
6. Three Friends
Three friends once sat in silence, wondering about life.
One asked,
“Can men live together and not be aware of it?
Work together and leave no trace?
Move endlessly and forget to exist?”
They looked at one another,
and broke into laughter.
They had no answer,
and that made them even closer.
7. Apologies
When a man steps on a stranger’s foot in the market,
he apologizes, saying, “The place is too crowded.”
If an elder brother steps on his younger’s foot,
he just says, “Sorry,” and it ends there.
If a parent steps on a child’s foot,
nothing is said at all.
The deepest courtesy has no ceremony.
Perfect conduct is effortless.
Perfect wisdom is unplanned.
Perfect love shows no performance.
Perfect sincerity gives no proof.
At each level of relationship described (strangers, siblings, parent and child),
the expression of apology becomes simpler and less formal,
yet the understanding remains intact.
When bonds are closer and trust deeper,
there’s less need for outward forms — goodwill is understood implicitly.
8. Three in the Morning
A monkey trainer once said,
“You will get three chestnuts in the morning, and four in the afternoon.”
The monkeys were furious.
So he said,
“Fine, four in the morning, three in the afternoon.”
The monkeys were delighted.
Nothing had changed,
yet their moods had turned.
The wise see both sides equally, unmoved by either.
They follow both paths at once,
and rest in Tao.
9. Chuang Tzu’s Funeral
When Chuang Tzu was near death,
his disciples began preparing a grand funeral.
He said,
“Heaven and earth shall be my coffin.
The sun and moon, my ornaments.
The stars will be the jewels around me,
and all living beings will attend the wake.
What more could I need?”
The disciples objected,
“But Master, the crows and kites will eat your body!”
Chuang Tzu laughed,
“Above ground I’ll be eaten by birds,
below ground by worms.
Either way I’ll be eaten;
why favor the birds?”