Way is vast, a flood
so utterly vast it’s flowing everywhere.
The ten thousand things depend on it:
giving them life and never leaving them
it performs wonders but remains nameless.
Feeding and clothing the ten thousand things
without ruling over them,
perennially that free of desire,
it’s small in name.
And being what the ten thousand things return to
without ruling over them,
it’s vast in name.
It never makes itself vast
and so becomes utterly vast.