There was something undefined and complete, coming into existence before Heaven and Earth.
　　How still it was and formless, standing alone, and undergoing no change, reaching everywhere and in no danger (of being exhausted)!
　　It may be regarded as the Mother of all things.
　　
　　I do not know its name, and I give it the designation of the Tao (the Way or Course).
　　Making an effort (further) to give it a name I call it The Great.
　　
　　Great, it passes on (in constant flow).
　　Passing on, it becomes remote.
　　Having become remote, it returns.
　　Therefore the Tao is great;
　　Heaven is great;
　　Earth is great;
　　and the (sage) king is also great.
　　In the universe there are four that are great, and the (sage) king is one of them.
　　
　　Man takes his law from the Earth;
　　the Earth takes its law from Heaven;
　　Heaven takes its law from the Tao.
　　The law of the Tao is its being what it is.

　　Gravity is the root of lightness;
　　stillness, the ruler of movement.
　　
　　Therefore a wise prince, marching the whole day, does not go far from his baggage wagons.
　　Although he may have brilliant prospects to look at,
　　he quietly remains (in his proper place), indifferent to them.
　　
　　How should the lord of a myriad chariots carry himself lightly before the kingdom?
　　If he do act lightly, he has lost his root (of gravity);
　　if he proceed to active movement, he will lose his throne.

　　The skilful traveller leaves no traces of his wheels or footsteps;
　　the skilful speaker says nothing that can be found fault with or blamed;
　　the skilful reckoner uses no tallies;
　　the skilful closer needs no bolts or bars, while to open what he has shut will be impossible;
　　the skilful binder uses no strings or knots, while to unloose what he has bound will be impossible.
　　
　　In the same way the sage is always skilful at saving men, and so he does not cast away any man;
　　he is always skilful at saving things, and so he does not cast away anything.
　　This is called 'Hiding the light of his procedure.'
　　
　　Therefore the man of skill is a master (to be looked up to) by him who has not the skill;
　　and he who has not the skill is the helper of (the reputation of) him who has the skill.
　　If the one did not honour his master, and the other did not rejoice in his helper,
　　an (observer), though intelligent, might greatly err about them.
　　This is called 'The utmost degree of mystery.'

　　Who knows his manhood's strength,
　　Yet still his female feebleness maintains;
　　As to one channel flow the many drains,
　　All come to him, yea, all beneath the sky.
　　Thus he the constant excellence retains;
　　The simple child again, free from all stains.
　　
　　Who knows how white attracts,
　　Yet always keeps himself within black's shade,
　　The pattern of humility displayed,
　　Displayed in view of all beneath the sky;
　　He in the unchanging excellence arrayed,
　　Endless return to man's first state has made.
　　
　　Who knows how glory shines,
　　Yet loves disgrace, nor e'er for it is pale;
　　Behold his presence in a spacious vale,
　　To which men come from all beneath the sky.
　　The unchanging excellence completes its tale;
　　The simple infant man in him we hail.
　　
　　The unwrought material, when divided and distributed, forms vessels.
　　The sage, when employed, becomes the Head of all the Officers (of government);
　　and in his greatest regulations he employs no violent measures.

　　If any one should wish to get the kingdom for himself, and to
　　effect this by what he does, I see that he will not succeed.
　　The kingdom is a spirit-like thing, and cannot be got by active doing.
　　He who would so win it destroys it;
　　he who would hold it in his grasp loses it.
　　
　　The course and nature of things is such that
　　What was in front is now behind;
　　What warmed anon we freezing find.
　　Strength is of weakness oft the spoil;
　　The store in ruins mocks our toil.
　　
　　Hence the sage puts away excessive effort, extravagance, and easy indulgence.

　　He who would assist a lord of men in harmony with the Tao will not assert his mastery in the kingdom by force of arms.
　　Such a course is sure to meet with its proper return.
　　
　　Wherever a host is stationed, briars and thorns spring up.
　　In the sequence of great armies there are sure to be bad years.
　　
　　A skilful (commander) strikes a decisive blow, and stops.
　　He does not dare (by continuing his operations) to assert and complete his mastery.
　　He will strike the blow, but will be on his guard against being vain or boastful or arrogant in consequence of it.
　　He strikes it as a matter of necessity;
　　he strikes it, but not from a wish for mastery.
　　
　　When things have attained their strong maturity they become old.
　　This may be said to be not in accordance with the Tao: and what is not
　　in accordance with it soon comes to an end.

　　Now arms, however beautiful, are instruments of evil omen,
　　hateful, it may be said, to all creatures.
　　Therefore they who have the Tao do not like to employ them.
　　
　　The superior man ordinarily considers the left hand the most honourable place,
　　but in time of war the right hand.
　　Those sharp weapons are instruments of evil omen, and not the instruments of the superior man;--
　　he uses them only on the compulsion of necessity.
　　Calm and repose are what he prizes; victory (by force of arms) is to him undesirable.
　　To consider this desirable would be to delight in the slaughter of men;
　　and he who delights in the slaughter of men cannot get his will in the kingdom.
　　
　　On occasions of festivity to be on the left hand is the prized position;
　　on occasions of mourning, the right hand.
　　The second in command of the army has his place on the left;
　　the general commanding in chief has his on the right;--
　　his place, that is, is assigned to him as in the rites of mourning.
　　He who has killed multitudes of men should weep for them with the bitterest grief;
　　and the victor in battle has his place (rightly) according to those rites.

　　The Tao, considered as unchanging, has no name.
　　
　　Though in its primordial simplicity it may be small,
　　the whole world dares not deal with (one embodying) it as a minister.
　　If a feudal prince or the king could guard and hold it,
　　all would spontaneously submit themselves to him.
　　
　　Heaven and Earth (under its guidance) unite together
　　and send down the sweet dew.
　　Without any directions, men can reach equally everywhere as of their own accord.
　　
　　As soon as it proceeds to action, it has a name.
　　When it once has that name, (men) can know to rest in it.
　　When they know to rest in it, they can be free from all risk of failure and error.
　　
　　The relation of the Tao to all the world is like that of the great rivers and seas to the streams from the valleys.

　　He who knows other men is discerning;
　　he who knows himself is intelligent.
　　He who overcomes others is strong;
　　he who overcomes himself is mighty.
　　He who is satisfied with his lot is rich;
　　he who goes on acting with energy has a (firm) will.
　　
　　He who does not fail in the requirements of his position, continues long;
　　he who dies and yet does not perish, has longevity.

　　All-pervading is the Great Tao! It may be found on the left hand and on the right.
　　
　　All things depend on it for their production, which it gives to them, not one refusing obedience to it.
　　When its work is accomplished, it does not claim the name of having done it.
　　It clothes all things as with a garment, and makes no assumption of being their lord;--
　　it may be named in the smallest things.
　　All things return (to their root and disappear), and do not know that it is it which presides over their doing so;--
　　it may be named in the greatest things.
　　
　　Hence the sage is able (in the same way) to accomplish his great achievements.
　　It is through his not making himself great that he can accomplish them.

　　To him who holds in his hands the Great Image (of the invisible Tao), the whole world repairs.
　　Men resort to him, and receive no hurt, but (find) rest, peace, and the feeling of ease.
　　
　　Music and dainties will make the passing guest stop (for a time).
　　But though the Tao as it comes from the mouth, seems insipid and has no flavour,
　　though it seems not worth being looked at or listened to,
　　the use of it is inexhaustible.

　　When one is about to take an inspiration, he is sure to make a (previous) expiration;
　　when he is going to weaken another, he will first strengthen him;
　　when he is going to overthrow another, he will first have raised him up;
　　when he is going to despoil another, he will first have made gifts to him:--
　　this is called 'Hiding the light (of his procedure).'
　　
　　The soft overcomes the hard; and the weak the strong.
　　
　　Fishes should not be taken from the deep;
　　instruments for the profit of a state should not be shown to the people.

　　The Tao in its regular course does nothing (for the sake of doing it),
　　and so there is nothing which it does not do.
　　
　　If princes and kings were able to maintain it,
　　all things would of themselves be transformed by them.
　　
　　If this transformation became to me an object of desire,
　　I would express the desire by the nameless simplicity.
　　
　　Simplicity without a name
　　Is free from all external aim.
　　With no desire, at rest and still,
　　All things go right as of their will.

　　(Those who) possessed in highest degree the attributes (of the Tao) did not (seek) to show them,
　　and therefore they possessed them (in fullest measure).
　　(Those who) possessed in a lower degree those attributes (sought how) not to lose them,
　　and therefore they did not possess them (in fullest measure).
　　
　　(Those who) possessed in the highest degree those attributes did nothing (with a purpose),
　　and had no need to do anything.
　　(Those who) possessed them in a lower degree were (always) doing,
　　and had need to be so doing.
　　
　　(Those who) possessed the highest benevolence were (always seeking) to carry it out,
　　and had no need to be doing so.
　　(Those who) possessed the highest righteousness were (always seeking) to carry it out,
　　and had need to be so doing.
　　
　　(Those who) possessed the highest (sense of) propriety were (always
　　seeking) to show it,
　　and when men did not respond to it,
　　they bared the arm and marched up to them.
　　
　　Thus it was that when the Tao was lost, its attributes appeared;
　　when its attributes were lost, benevolence appeared;
　　when benevolence was lost, righteousness appeared;
　　and when righteousness was lost, the proprieties appeared.
　　
　　Now propriety is the attenuated form of leal-heartedness and good faith,
　　and is also the commencement of disorder;
　　swift apprehension is (only) a flower of the Tao,
　　and is the beginning of stupidity.
　　
　　Thus it is that the Great man abides by what is solid,
　　and eschews what is flimsy;
　　dwells with the fruit and not with the flower.
　　It is thus that he puts away the one and makes choice of the other.

　　The things which from of old have got the One (the Tao) are--
　　
　　Heaven which by it is bright and pure;
　　Earth rendered thereby firm and sure;
　　Spirits with powers by it supplied;
　　Valleys kept full throughout their void
　　All creatures which through it do live
　　Princes and kings who from it get
　　The model which to all they give.
　　
　　All these are the results of the One (Tao).
　　
　　If heaven were not thus pure, it soon would rend;
　　If earth were not thus sure, 'twould break and bend;
　　Without these powers, the spirits soon would fail;
　　If not so filled, the drought would parch each vale;
　　Without that life, creatures would pass away;
　　Princes and kings, without that moral sway,
　　However grand and high, would all decay.
　　
　　Thus it is that dignity finds its (firm) root in its (previous) meanness,
　　and what is lofty finds its stability in the lowness (from which it rises).
　　Hence princes and kings call themselves 'Orphans', 'Men of small virtue', and as 'Carriages without a nave'.
　　Is not this an acknowledgment that in their considering themselves mean they see
　　the foundation of their dignity?
　　So it is that in the enumeration of the different parts of a carriage
　　we do not come on what makes it answer the ends of a carriage.
　　They do not wish to show themselves elegant-looking as jade,
　　but (prefer) to be coarse-looking as an (ordinary) stone.

　　The movement of the Tao By contraries proceeds;
　　And weakness marks the course Of Tao's mighty deeds.
　　
　　All things under heaven sprang from It as existing (and named);
　　that existence sprang from It as non-existent (and not named).

　　Scholars of the highest class, when they hear about the Tao,
　　earnestly carry it into practice.
　　Scholars of the middle class, when they have heard about it,
　　seem now to keep it and now to lose it.
　　Scholars of the lowest class, when they have heard about it,
　　laugh greatly at it.
　　If it were not (thus) laughed at, it would not be fit to be the Tao.
　　
　　Therefore the sentence-makers have thus expressed themselves:--
　　
　　'The Tao, when brightest seen, seems light to lack;
　　Who progress in it makes, seems drawing back;
　　Its even way is like a rugged track.
　　Its highest virtue from the vale doth rise;
　　Its greatest beauty seems to offend the eyes;
　　And he has most whose lot the least supplies.
　　Its firmest virtue seems but poor and low;
　　Its solid truth seems change to undergo;
　　Its largest square doth yet no corner show
　　A vessel great, it is the slowest made;
　　Loud is its sound, but never word it said;
　　A semblance great, the shadow of a shade.'
　　The Tao is hidden, and has no name;
　　
　　but it is the Tao which is skilful at imparting (to all things what they need) and making them complete.

　　The Tao produced One;
　　One produced Two;
　　Two produced Three;
　　Three produced All things.
　　All things leave behind them the Obscurity (out of which they have come),
　　and go forward to embrace the Brightness (into which they have emerged),
　　while they are harmonised by the Breath of Vacancy.
　　
　　What men dislike is
　　to be orphans,
　　to have little virtue,
　　to be as carriages without naves;
　　and yet these are the designations which kings and princes use for themselves.
　　So it is that some things are increased by being diminished,
　　and others are diminished by being increased.
　　
　　What other men (thus) teach, I also teach.
　　The violent and strong do not die their natural death.
　　I will make this the basis of my teaching.

　　The softest thing in the world dashes against and overcomes the hardest;
　　that which has no (substantial) existence enters where there is no crevice.
　　I know hereby what advantage belongs to doing nothing (with a purpose).
　　
　　There are few in the world who attain to the teaching without words,
　　and the advantage arising from non-action.

　　Or fame or life,
　　Which do you hold more dear?
　　Or life or wealth,
　　To which would you adhere?
　　Keep life and lose those other things;
　　Keep them and lose your life:--which brings
　　Sorrow and pain more near?
　　
　　Thus we may see,
　　Who cleaves to fame
　　Rejects what is more great;
　　Who loves large stores
　　Gives up the richer state.
　　
　　Who is content
　　Needs fear no shame.
　　Who knows to stop
　　Incurs no blame.
　　From danger free
　　Long live shall he.

　　Who thinks his great achievements poor
　　Shall find his vigour long endure.
　　Of greatest fulness, deemed a void,
　　Exhaustion ne'er shall stem the tide.
　　Do thou what's straight still crooked deem;
　　Thy greatest art still stupid seem,
　　And eloquence a stammering scream.
　　
　　Constant action overcomes cold;
　　being still overcomes heat.
　　Purity and stillness give the correct law to all under heaven.

　　When the Tao prevails in the world,
　　they send back their swift horses to (draw) the dung-carts.
　　When the Tao is disregarded in the world,
　　the war-horses breed in the border lands.
　　
　　There is no guilt greater than to sanction ambition;
　　no calamity greater than to be discontented with one's lot;
　　no fault greater than the wish to be getting.
　　
　　Therefore the sufficiency of contentment is an enduring and unchanging sufficiency.

　　Without going outside his door, one understands (all that takes place) under the sky;
　　without looking out from his window, one sees the Tao of Heaven.
　　The farther that one goes out (from himself), the less he knows.
　　
　　Therefore the sages got their knowledge without travelling;
　　gave their (right) names to things without seeing them;
　　and accomplished their ends without any purpose of doing so.

　　He who devotes himself to learning (seeks) from day to day to increase (his knowledge);
　　he who devotes himself to the Tao (seeks) from day to day to diminish (his doing).
　　
　　He diminishes it and again diminishes it, till he arrives at doing nothing (on purpose).
　　Having arrived at this point of non-action, there is nothing which he does not do.
　　
　　He who gets as his own all under heaven does so by giving himself no trouble (with that end).
　　If one take trouble (with that end), he is not equal to getting as his own all under heaven.