Existence is infinite, not to be defined;
And though it seems but a bit of wood
In your hand to carve as you please,
It is not to be lightly played with and put down.
When rulers adhered to the way of life,
They were upheld by natural loyalty:
Heaven and earth were joined and made fertile,
Life was a freshness of rain,
Subject to none,
Free to all.
But people of culture came, with their grades and distinctions;
And as soon as such differences had been devised
No one knew where to end them,
Though the one who does know the end of all such differences
Is a sound person:
Might be likened to the course
Of many rivers reaching the one sea.