7
Tsêng-tzŭ said, "When they are gone, there is no recalling
them—such are our parents.[1]
When they have reached their
limit there is no adding to them—such are the years [of their
lives]. This is why,[2]
though the filial son may wish to go on
supporting them, his parents can not tarry [forever];[3]
and though
a tree may wish [to remain] straight, the seasons do not give it a
chance.[4]
Thus to slaughter an ox as a sacrifice at their grave is
not so good as bringing chickens and pigs to parents while they
are still alive. That is why I was only too glad to serve as an
officer in Ch`i with a salary of only a chung[5]
and a fu [of grain];
not because I thought it much, but I was happy that I could get
it to my parents. After their death I once went south to Ch`u,
where I got an honorable position, with a hall nine jên high that
had projecting beams three
wei in circumference.
[6]
I had a hundred
carts bringing me gifts, but still I looked to the north and wept.
Not that I thought [my treatment] too mean, but I was grieved
that I could not get it to my parents.
[7]
So one whose family is
poor and whose parents are old is not particular about the office
he will fill.
[8]
One who, for the sake of his ambition, stints his
parents is not filial."
The Ode says,[9]
Our mothers have to do all the labor of cooking.[10]