Nothingness NothingnessThe space between heaven and earth—
isn't it like a bellows?
Empty without bending,
the more it moves,
the more it puts out.
Daodejing 5
356
Leaves fall constantly and mix with evening rain.
I comfort myself by singing “Red Silk” aloud.
My feelings are full, but I don't mind being friendless.
I cultivate emptiness and throw suffering on the waves.
The carriages of old men are heard outside my gates.
Taoist scrolls are piled up beside my pillow.
In the end, plain people go to the cloudy heavens—
green water, blue mountains, transcended in one time.
“Worried Thoughts,” Yu Xuanji (844–869)
Wind blowing over water
is the image of spreading.
The ancient kings
made offerings to god
and built temples.
Yijing, Image of hexagram 59: Spreading
358
I enter the ancient temple in early morning.
as the rising sun grazes the high trees.
I follow a twisting path to a secluded place
where a meditation hall is surrounded by flowering woods.
The mountain light stirs the delighted birds.
My heart is as empty as this reflecting pool.
Ten thousand sounds become completely still:
all that's heard is the bell that rings the hours.
“Inscription behind the Meditation Hall of Poshan Temple,” Chang Jian (708–765)
359
Don't fear slowing; fear stopping.
Proverb
361
The space between heaven and earth—
isn't it like a bellows?
Empty without bending,
the more it moves, the more it puts out.
Daodejing 5
362
You came from the east to visit me,
the rain of Baling still on your clothes.
I ask why you have come, and you say:
“To buy an ax to chop mountain trees.”
How deep and steady the flowers bloom.
How fledgling swallows swoop and soar.
Yesterday is gone, and now it's spring.
Look how white our temples have turned!
“Meeting Feng Zhe in Chang'an,” Wei Yingwu (737–792)
Mountain monks sit playing chess.
Above the game, bamboo shadows clear.
No one sees them among the bamboo—
they only hear the chess pieces click.
“By the Pond,” Bai Juyi (772–846)
364
Autumn skies, a full moon again.
One night in-a-thousand at the city gate:
that's how we meet again in Jiangnan—
so unbelievable that it only happens in dreams.
Winds startle hidden magpies from the trees.
Insects shiver in the cold wet grass.
But travelers can always join in drinking wine:
lingering only in fear of the morning bell.
“Old Friends of the River Country Meeting by Chance and Gathering at an Inn,” Dai Shulin (732–789)
Thirty spokes join at one hub—
an entire cart depends
on that empty space.
Turn clay into a bowl—
its usefulness comes
from its empty space.
Cut doors and windows into a room,
that room is useful
because of those empty spaces.
Therefore, what is solid
may be beneficial,
but what is empty
is useful.
Daodejing 11