莊子·秋水（節選）庄子·秋水（节选）

The autumn floods came in their season, and a hundred streams poured into the Yellow River. Its current swelled so wide that, looking across from bank to island, you could not tell an ox from a horse. At this the Lord of the River was delighted and pleased with himself, thinking that all the beauty in the world was his alone. He followed the current east until he reached the Northern Sea. There he looked east and could see no end to the water. Then the Lord of the River turned his face, gazed out at the vastness towards Ruo, the god of the sea, and sighed: "The country saying goes, 'He has heard of the Way a hundred times and thinks no one is his equal.' That describes me. I once heard people belittle the learning of Confucius and make light of the integrity of Boyi, and at first I did not believe them. Now I have seen how inexhaustible you are. If I had not come to your gate, I would have been in danger, and forever laughed at by those who know the great method." Ruo of the Northern Sea said: "You cannot talk about the sea to a frog in a well: it is confined to its hole. You cannot talk about ice to an insect of summer: it is bound to its season. You cannot talk about the Way to a narrow scholar: he is tied by his teaching. Now you have come out from your banks and seen the great sea, and you know your own smallness. Now it is possible to speak with you of the great principle. Of all the waters in the world, none is greater than the sea. Ten thousand rivers flow into it, no one knows when they will stop, and still it is never full. At the Weilü it drains away, no one knows when it will cease, and still it is never empty. Spring and autumn do not change it; flood and drought it does not notice. How far it exceeds the flow of the Yangzi and the Yellow River cannot be measured or counted. Yet I have never made much of myself for this. I compare my form with heaven and earth, and I receive my breath from yin and yang. Between heaven and earth I am like a small stone or a small tree on a great mountain. Since I see how little I am, how could I make much of myself? Reckon the four seas within heaven and earth: are they not like a little hollow in a great marsh? Reckon the Middle Kingdom within the four seas: is it not like a grain of rice in a great granary? We number the kinds of things at ten thousand, and man is one of them. Of all the people of the nine provinces, wherever grain grows and boats and carts can go, any one person is just one of them. Compared with the ten thousand things, is he not like the tip of a hair on a horse's body? What the Five Emperors handed down, what the Three Kings fought for, what the benevolent worry about and the capable labour over, comes to no more than this. Boyi won fame by declining it, Confucius was thought learned for talking about it. In making much of themselves, were they not like you a moment ago, making much of yourself because of your water?"

Zhuangzi was fishing in the river Pu when the king of Chu sent two high officials to go ahead and see him, saying: "I would like to trouble you with the affairs of my realm." Zhuangzi held on to his fishing rod and did not look round. He said: "I have heard that in Chu there is a sacred tortoise that has been dead for three thousand years. The king keeps it wrapped in cloth and boxed, high in the ancestral temple. Would this tortoise rather be dead, and have its bones left behind and honoured? Or would it rather be alive, dragging its tail in the mud?" The two officials said: "It would rather be alive, dragging its tail in the mud." Zhuangzi said: "Go back. I will drag my tail in the mud."

When Huizi was chief minister of Liang, Zhuangzi went to see him. Someone said to Huizi: "Zhuangzi is coming, and he wants to replace you as minister." At this Huizi was afraid, and searched throughout the state for three days and three nights. Zhuangzi went to see him and said: "In the south there is a bird called the yuanchu. Have you heard of it? The yuanchu sets out from the Southern Sea and flies to the Northern Sea. It will not rest anywhere but on a wutong tree, will not eat anything but the fruit of the bamboo, will not drink anything but the sweetest spring water. Now an owl had found a rotten rat, and as the yuanchu passed overhead, the owl looked up at it and said: 'Shoo.' Now do you want to shoo me away with your state of Liang?"

Zhuangzi and Huizi were strolling on the bridge over the river Hao. Zhuangzi said: "The minnows come out and swim about at their ease. This is the happiness of fish." Huizi said: "You are not a fish. How do you know the happiness of fish?" Zhuangzi said: "You are not me. How do you know I do not know the happiness of fish?" Huizi said: "I am not you, so certainly I do not know you. And you are certainly not a fish, so the case is complete: you do not know the happiness of fish." Zhuangzi said: "Let us go back to where we began. When you said, 'How do you know the happiness of fish?', you already knew that I knew it, and that is why you asked me. I know it from here, above the river Hao."