From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
After the ground has been swept, dust-clouds roll over it. When one begins to act, obstacles arise. After the pool has been dug, the moon shines on it. When one makes one’s mind void, illumination is begotten.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
A man can apprehend Truth at another’s intimation, but he will stray from it. Hence that is not so enlightening as apprehending it completely by himself. And he can secure a pleasure from an extraneous source, but he will lose it. Therefore that is less secure than an ecstasy from within.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Mountains and forests are scenes of wonder. Once they are frequented by people, they are debased into market-places. Calligraphy and paintings are things of beauty. Once they are craved by people, they are degraded into merchandise.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
The spirit of man communes with Heaven; the omnipotence of Heaven resides in man. Is the distance between Heaven and man very great?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
If a man aims at finding the ebb and flow of life in a decayed tree or withered grass, an inaudible sound or a savorless taste, he becomes a bellows for the fires of heaven and earth and a root to men and to objects.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Those desolate door-steps where foxes crouch and those deserted terraces where rabbits ramble, might in olden days have been places for singing and dancing. There where yellow flowers are chilled by dew and where faded grass is obscured by mist, might once have been battlegrounds. Can prosperity and decline remain constant? Where are the victors and the vanquished of old?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
When a man contends for supremacy, he contends like the sparks flashed between two stones. How long can those sparks last? When he fights for victory, he fights in the horn of a snail. How large a world is that horn?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
When a bird is frightened out of its wits or a flower splashes its tear-drops, they both embrace ardor and zeal. How can they calmly appreciate the chilly wind or the gelid moon?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
A conventional man delights in his prosperity, but the superior man’s happiness comes from his adversity. A conventional man grieves at his dissatisfaction, but the superior man’s sorrow arises from his satisfaction. This is so because the sorrow and happiness of a conventional man are induced by passion and those of the superior man by intellect.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
To be circumspect makes one’s spirit hard pressed; to be carefree makes one’s mind innocent. Do these apply only to the elegance and crudity of poetry and prose? I often see that a wary man acts with artifice, while an unrestrained man reveals his true nature. There, too, we have a distinction between the life and the death of the human heart.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
When a man regards wealth and power as fleeting as a cloud, it is not necessary for him to be a recluse living in a cliff or grotto. When his fondness for natural scenery is not so deep-rooted as an incurable disease, he is as if intoxicated with wine and absorbed in poetry.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
The attitude of people towards me may be warm or cold, but I respond neither gladly nor resentfully; the tastes of the world may be savory or insipid, but I react neither happily nor disgustedly. If one does not fall into the trap of the mundane, one knows the ways of living in, and escaping from, the world.