Under heaven there is nothing greater

Than the tip of an autumn down, . .

And the Mount Everest seems small.

There is no one more long-lived

Than a child which dies prematurely,

And Methuselah didn't live out his time.

Heaven, Earth, and your humble servant

Were produced together and, therefore,

All things and I are one. Since we are

All one, can there be talks about us?

But since we are spoken of as one,

Must there not be the room for talk?

One and talk are two; two and one are three.

Going on from this in our enumeration,

Even the best reckoner cannot reach the end

Of the infinite figures, and how much less

Can the ordinary men do so? Sure thing!

From nonexistence we proceed to existence

Till we arrive at three; proceeding from

Nonexistence to existence and then

To existence again, to how many

Should we reach? Let us abjure

Such procedure and simply rest here.