莊子
Zhuang Zhou · c. 4th century BCE
Butterfly dreams, a cook who carves like music, and the use of the useless.
The wildest and funniest of the Daoist classics.
The wildest and funniest of the Daoist classics.
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Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. Suddenly, I awaked, and there I lay, myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.
Cook Ding carved an ox for Lord Wenhui so smoothly it sounded like music. He said: a good cook changes his knife once a year because he cuts; a poor one, once a month because he hacks. I have used mine for nineteen years. I find the spaces between the joints and let the blade move where there is room.
A carpenter passed a giant oak and did not look twice: its wood was useless for boats or coffins. That night the tree came to him in a dream: had I been useful, I would have been cut down long ago. My uselessness is my great use.
