Poem…
What is meant by a ‘true man’?
the true men of old
were not afraid
when they stood alone
in their views.
No great exploits. No plans.
If they failed, no sorrow.
No self-congratulation
in success.
They scaled cliffs, never dizzy,
plunged in water, never wet,
walked through fire
and were not burnt.
Thus their knowledge reached
all the way
to Tao.
The true men of old
slept without dreams,
woke without worries.
Their food was plain.
They breathed deep.
True men breathe
from their heels.
Others breathe with their gullets,
half-strangled. In dispute
they heave up arguments
like vomit.
Where the fountains of passion
lie deep
the heavenly springs
are soon dry.
The true men of old
knew no lust for life,
no dread of death.
Their entrance was
without gladness,
their exit, yonder,
without resistance.
Easy come, easy go.
They did not forget where from,
nor ask where to,
nor drive grimly forward
fighting their way through life.
They took life as it came, gladly;
took death as it came,
without care;
and went away, yonder,
yonder!
They had no mind to fight Tao.
They did not try,
by their own contriving,
to help Tao along.
These are the ones we call
true men.
Minds free, thoughts gone
brows clear, faces serene.
Were they cool?
Only cool as autumn.
Were they hot?
No hotter than spring.
All that came out of them
came quiet,
like the four seasons.
Author unknown.
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