Po-ya played the lute while Chung Tzŭ-ch`i listened to him.
As he played he happened to think of Mt. [T`ai],[2]
and Chung
Tzŭ-ch`i said, "How well you play! [The music] is lofty as Mt.
T`ai." [After a little while][3]
he thought of flowing water, and
Chung Tzŭ-ch`i said, "How well you play! [The music] is expansive
as the Chiang or the River."
When Chung Tzŭ-ch`i died, Po-ya split his lute and broke the
strings, and to the end of his life did not again play the lute,
maintaining that there was no one in the world worth playing for.
It is not only the lute that is like this; for the sage it is also true.
If it is not the proper time, in what way can the sage accomplish
his meritorious acts?
