-- from Chuang Tsu -
In the northern ocean there is a fish named Zhwan –
I do not know how many li in size.
It changes into a bird by the name of Phong.
Whenever this great bird rouses itself and flies,
its wings turn around like clouds in the sky.
It mounts as on the whorls of a billy goat’s horn
into regions imperceptible to the eye
and bears the blue into which it is born,
removing at ease into the heavenly pool.
It provokes the mirth of the tiny cicada:
“How far it must travel, this flapping fool,
before it ever reaches its destination.
I’d fall in a breath after leaving my station,
were I to set out in search of a mate.”
Thus the knowledge of the small falls short of the great.
[Previous: Webbed Feet]
[Next: Horse Hoofs]