This could have been Lao Tzu's last poem (600 BCE)
Be empty as space
be rooted in nothing
be invisible like the drifting wind
be the sage in no-knowing-
be not trapped ever
in self-absorbing
be not fazed by any happening
gain understanding without thinking-
they wrongly regard that happiness
depends on achieving
this is ephemeral like everything
the final outcome would be frustrating --
clenched hands --how they hurt!
Closed hearts -- how deep is the bleeding!
so few mortals such as we are
know the power and blessing of forgetting!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem