If a man is crossing a river
And an empty boat collides with his own skiff,
Even though he be a bad-tempered man
He will not become very angry.
But if he sees a man in the boat,
He will shout to him to steer clear.
And if the shout is not heard, he will shout
Again, and yet again, and begin cursing —
And all because there is somebody in that boat.
Yet if the boat were empty, he would not be shouting,
And he would not be angry.
If you can empty your own boat
Crossing the river of the world,
No one will oppose you,
No one will seek to harm you.
Who can free himself of achievement and fame
Then descend and be lost
Amidst the masses of men?
He will flow unseen…
He will go about like life itself,
With no name and no home.
Simple is he, without distinction.
To all appearances he is a fool.
His steps leave no trace.
He has no power.
He achieves nothing,
He has no reputation.
Since he judges no one,
No one judges him.
Such is the perfect man —
His boat is empty.
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