The life of the godlike
Is like the action of Heaven;
And his death
Is simply the transformation
Common to any other beings.
In his stillness his virtue
Is the same as that
Of the Yin diffusiveness
And in motion his keenness
Is like that of the Yang forcefulness.
He does never take initiation
In producing either happiness
Or distress. He responds
To the influence acting on him
And moves as he feels the pressure.
He rises to act only when
He is obliged to do so.
He discards wisdom and
The memories of the past;
He follows the lines
Of his Heaven-given nature.
He suffers no penalty from Heaven,
No involvement from things,
No blame from living people
And no reproof from the spirits
Of the dead -- he is unframed.
His life seems to float along;
His death seems to be a resting.
He does not indulge any anxious doubts;
He does not lay plans beforehand.
His light is without display; his faith
Is without previous arrangement.
His sleep is untroubled by dreams;
His waking is followed by no grief.
His spirit is guileless and pure;
His soul is not subject to weariness.
Vacant and without self-assertion,
Placid and indifferent, he agrees
With Heaven's Mandate of Being.
It makes him be the lord of all changes.
And reforms. The range of his influence
Is inexhaustible, but there is nowhere
Any trace of his presence to be seen; so,
Don't ask him even a bit for sympathy,
But rely on your own internal force.
Always,
Deborah
Love ya!
Jane
But then if he is just as ethereal as the air, he doesn't need to have to fend for himself
Ron