To try to scoop the moon from the water is foolishness. Since Master used the moon to teach me, I will answer …
To try to scoop the moon from the water is foolishness.
Since Master used the moon to teach me, I will answer him with the moon in turn. To my mind, under Heaven there are three kinds of moon, and three kinds of foolishness to match.
The lowest kind of fool cannot stomach crookedness, knows nothing of worldly ways, and cares nothing for wealth, yet takes chivalry for his moon and a world of wrongs for his water. He throws his courage behind the cause of righting wrongs, bares his heart and guts to keep impossible promises, wears himself down from head to toe without sparing his own body, and in the end gains no more than a scrap or two of empty fame. He does not know fear. This is the first kind of foolishness.
The middle kind of fool will not follow the tide, will not drift with the muddy current, and does not know when to advance or when to retreat. He takes the common people for his moon and an age of chaos for his water. He grieves for the rise and fall of the realm, and just as deeply for the hardships of the people. Alone, he pushes against the current, like an ant trying to shake a tree, leaving behind no more than a few faint ripples. He does not know how to change. This is the second kind of foolishness.
The highest kind of fool does not spare life or death, does not chase fame, and has no use for glory or splendor. He takes history itself for his moon and the passing years for his water. He would move a thousand mountains for the sake of generations yet to come, cast aside the needs of one age to plan for a thousand years beyond it. Like monkeys clutching one another's tails, he does not even know where it all ends. In the end, all he can scoop up is the moon's reflection in the water, flowers in a mirror, nothing that can truly be held. He does not know profit. This is the top of foolishness.
How many clever people there are in this world. Heaven and earth have no heart, and the people have no certain fate. To pray for peace for ten thousand generations is like trying to scoop the moon from the water. No wise man would do such a thing. Only fools would.
Alas. I had thought that to possess even one of these three kinds of foolishness was rare, and to possess all three rarer still. Who would have guessed that all here are such fools?
What good fortune indeed.