The sages of old were subtle,
quiet, and deep.
Too deep to understand.
Because they were beyond knowing,
we can only describe how they appeared.

Cautious — like someone crossing a frozen stream.
Alert — like someone watching from all directions.
Respectful — like a guest before a host.
Fading — like melting ice.
Simple — like uncarved wood.
Open — like an empty valley.
Murky — like muddy water.

Who can make muddy water clear?
Let it settle,
and it becomes still.

Who can rest in movement?
By allowing things to flow,
stillness will come.

Those who follow the Tao
do not seek to be full.
Because they are empty,
they can be worn,
and yet never broken.