Ancient Poems

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Hard Is the Way of the World (IV)（AD 450）
On level ground a streamlet will
To east,west, north or south flow still.
So is man’s life,whate’er his will.
Can we in sighing and grief alone pass our days?
I’ll drown my sadness in a cup of wine;
I’ll drink and never sing of the hard way.
But is a human heart not made of wood or stone?
What can I say,pacing about, my mouth shut close?

The Odyssey and Beowulf.

La rédaction de l'ouvrage est attribuée au mythique empereur Jaune (Huangdi, XXVIIIe siècle av. J.-C., soit 600 ans avant le tout début de l'écriture chinoise) et se présente comme un dialogue entre l'empereur Jaune et son médecin et ministre Qi Bai.

« Moi qui suis le chef d'un grand peuple...
Et qui devrais donc en percevoir des impôts,
Je constate avec affliction que je n'en perçois point,
Parce que mon peuple est malade.
Je veux que l'on cesse d'administrer des remèdes
Qui rendent mon peuple malade...
Pour n'employer désormais que des aiguilles de métal »
— Nei Jing Su Wen, traduction Jacques-André Lavier, Pardès 1990,

translate does:
"I, who am the leader of a great people...
And who should therefore collect taxes from them,
I note with distress that I collect none,
Because my people are sick.
I want people to stop administering remedies
That make my people sick...
To use only metal needles from now on"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huangdi_Neijing
https://ia800602.us.archive.org/9/items ... e_text.pdf


"The Tao is an empty vessel: it is used but never filled ..."
"The Way is like an empty vessel which, in spite of being used, is never filled.
How bottomless it is, like the progenitor of the ten thousand things!
How deep it is, as if it will last forever!
Generated by I know not what, it is the Image of what was before the Emperors".

4th century BCE-
one of many translations https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tao_Te_Ching

My Thatched Hut（AD750）

Can I lead a free and easy life as I please?
From public affairs in the wind and dust I’d rather be free.
I thought in a small town there’s nothing much to do;
To my surprise official business falls on me.
My heart is broken to bow to superiors high;
It grieves my heart to whip the people hard.
I come home to ask my wife and children why;
We laugh and say we are not better or worse,
We should own some fields and feed ourselves by hand,
And let the world flow away like a stream.
I dream of the native hills from which I’m far away,
As I’m involved in public affairs I can’t obey the imperial decree.
I know it’s in vain to serve as a government clerk,
So I remember the poet who went back to his fields free.