Chapter 15
古之善為士者，微妙玄通，深不可識。
夫唯不可識，故強為之容：豫兮若冬涉川；
猶兮若畏四鄰；
儼兮其若客；
渙兮若冰之釋；
敦兮其若樸；
曠兮其若谷；
混兮其若濁。
孰能晦以理之徐明？
孰能濁以靜之徐清？
孰能安以動之徐生？
保此道者不欲盈。
夫唯不盈，故能蔽而新成。
The good men of old were subtle, wondrous, darkly penetrating, too deep to be known.
Precisely because they cannot be known, I can only force a description: wary, as if crossing a river in winter;
hesitant, as if afraid of the neighbors on all sides;
grave, like a guest;
loosening, like ice about to melt;
solid, like the uncarved block;
open, like a valley;
murky, like muddy water.
Who can take the dark and order it, until slowly it grows light?
Who can take the muddy and still it, until slowly it grows clear?
Who can take the settled and move it, until slowly it comes to life?
One who keeps this Way does not wish to be full.
Precisely because he is not full, he can be worn and made new.1
Notes
1. Our source reads 蔽而新成. Wang Bi’s text has 蔽不新成: “he stays worn and is not made new.”