shí wŭ

gŭ zhī shàn wéi shì zhĕ
wéi miào xuán tōng
shēn bù kĕ shí
fū wéi bù kĕ shí
gù qiáng wéi zhī róng yù xī ruò dōng shè chuān ; yóu xī ruò wèi sì lín ; yăn xī qí ruò kè ; huàn xī ruò bīng zhī shì ; dūn xī qí ruò pŭ ; kuàng xī qí ruò gŭ ; hùn xī qí ruò zhuó
shú néng huì yĭ lĭ zhī xú míng ？shú néng zhuó yĭ jìng zhī xú qīng ？shú néng ān yĭ dòng zhī xú shēng ？băo cĭ dào zhĕ bù yù yíng
fū wéi bù yíng
gù néng bì ér xīn chéng

15

The ancient Masters were profound and subtle.
Their wisdom was unfathomable.
There is no way to describe it;
all we can describe is their appearance.

They were careful
as someone crossing an iced-over stream.
Alert as a warrior in enemy territory.
Courteous as a guest.
Fluid as melting ice.
Shapable as a block of wood.
Receptive as a valley.
Clear as a glass of water.

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?

The Master doesn't seek fulfillment.
Not seeking, not expecting,
she is present, and can welcome all things.