訳文： Heaven and earth have no partial benevolence; they treat all things as straw dogs used in sacrifice.
解読： This is the most mainstream traditional interpretation. "Straw dogs" (刍狗) were dogs fashioned from straw for ancient sacrificial rituals — venerated before the ceremony, then discarded afterward. Heaven and earth do not treat the myriad things according to personal likes or dislikes, but rather let all things live and perish according to natural law. "Without benevolence" (不仁) does not mean "cruel," but rather "without artificial partiality" — this is precisely the great virtue of heaven and earth. Wang Bi's commentary explicitly states: "天地任自然，无为无造，万物自相治理，故不仁也" — "Heaven and earth follow what is natural, acting through non-action (无为) and without contrivance; the myriad things govern themselves — hence they are 'without benevolence.'" Heshanggong likewise comments: "天施地化，不以仁恩，任自然也" — "Heaven bestows and earth transforms, not through benevolent grace but by following nature."
近似見解： Wang Bi ("天地任自然，无为无造，万物自相治理，故不仁也" — "Heaven and earth follow what is natural, acting through non-action and without contrivance; the myriad things govern themselves — hence they are 'without benevolence'"); Heshanggong ("天施地化，不以仁恩，任自然也" — "Heaven bestows and earth transforms, not through benevolent grace but by following nature").
訳文： Heaven and earth are without selective, partial benevolence; they regard all things as straw sacrificial offerings, treating them equally.
解読： Here "仁" takes the sense of "partial, selective benevolence" (Wang Bi's reading). Wang Bi emphasizes: "仁者必造立施化，有恩有为，造立施化则物失其真" — "One who practices benevolence must establish institutions and bestow transformations, dispensing grace and acting with purpose; once one establishes and bestows, things lose their natural authenticity." In other words, once there is differentiated benevolence, there will be favor and kindness, closeness and distance — and the myriad things will instead lose their natural and authentic state. The greatness of heaven and earth lies precisely in not engaging in this kind of selective bestowal of grace.
近似見解： Wang Bi ("仁者必造立施化，有恩有为，造立施化则物失其真" — "One who practices benevolence must establish institutions and bestow transformations; once one establishes and bestows, things lose their natural authenticity").
訳文： Heaven above and the earth do not practice (Confucian-style) benevolent governance; they treat all things as straw dogs.
解読： This interpretation understands "天" as the sovereign "Heaven above" and takes "仁" in the Confucian sense of "benevolent governance" (仁政). It carries an undertone of criticism toward Confucian thought on benevolent rule: even Heaven itself does not govern the myriad things through artificial moral virtue, much less should human rulers. All things are equal as straw dogs, without distinction of noble and base, close and distant.
近似見解： Interpretations by certain scholars who read Laozi from an anti-Confucian perspective.
訳文： Heaven and earth do not (practice) benevolence; therefore all things are like straw sacrificial offerings.
解読： Here "以" takes the meaning of "therefore." This interpretation strengthens the causal relationship: precisely because heaven and earth do not practice artificial benevolence, the rise and fall, life and death of all things are natural and equal — like straw dogs after the sacrifice, receiving no special treatment. It emphasizes that "being without benevolence" is the cause, and "being like straw dogs" is the effect.
近似見解： A causal reading adopted by a small number of commentators.
訳文： The sky and the earth have no benevolence; they cause all things to become (as if they were) grass and dogs.
解読： This reading separates "刍" (grass) and "狗" (dog) rather than treating them as one compound word. Heaven and earth reduce all things to the status of fodder and hounds — lowly beings. Heshanggong's commentary tends toward this reading: "天地生万物，人最为贵，天地视之如刍草狗畜" — "Heaven and earth give birth to all things; among them humans are most valued, yet heaven and earth regard them as mere grass and hounds." This interpretation emphasizes the absolute equality of heaven and earth — even human beings, in the eyes of heaven and earth, are no different from grass and dogs.
近似見解： Heshanggong ("天地生万物，人最为贵，天地视之如刍草狗畜，不贵望其报也" — "Heaven and earth give birth to all things; among them humans are most valued, yet heaven and earth regard them as mere grass and hounds, without valuing them or expecting anything in return").
訳文： The Sage (圣人) likewise has no partial benevolence; he treats the common people as straw dogs used in sacrifice.
解読： This forms a perfect parallel with the preceding sentence, "Heaven and earth are without benevolence." The Sage emulates heaven and earth: he does not treat the people according to personal likes, dislikes, or favoritism. Just as heaven and earth do not favor one species over another, the Sage does not favor one group of people over another. "Treating the people as straw dogs" means treating all equally, without dispensing petty favors. Wang Bi comments: "圣人与天地合其德，以百姓比刍狗也" — "The Sage aligns his virtue with heaven and earth and compares the people to straw dogs."
近似見解： Wang Bi ("圣人与天地合其德，以百姓比刍狗也" — "The Sage aligns his virtue with heaven and earth and compares the people to straw dogs").
訳文： The Sage does not practice selective favoritism; he treats the people as straw dogs, regarding them equally.
解読： Here "仁" takes the meaning of "partial bestowal of grace." The Sage's way of governing does not lie in dispensing favors and doing good deeds, but in non-interference (无为) — allowing the people to develop naturally. Once one practices selective "benevolence," distinctions of closeness and distance, intimacy and remoteness inevitably arise, which in turn undermines fairness. Heshanggong comments: "圣人爱养万民，不以仁恩，法天地行自然" — "The Sage nurtures the people, not through benevolent grace, but by modeling heaven and earth and following the course of nature."
近似見解： Heshanggong ("圣人爱养万民，不以仁恩，法天地行自然" — "The Sage nurtures the people, not through benevolent grace, but by modeling heaven and earth and following nature").
訳文： The Sage does not govern through Confucian-style benevolent rule; he treats the people as straw dogs.
解読： This interpretation directly targets Laozi's "without benevolence" against the Confucian concept of "benevolent governance" (仁政). Laozi holds that deliberately promoting benevolent government — attending to the people's food, clothing, and shelter, and educating their moral character — is itself a form of excessive interference. The true Sage should be like heaven and earth, letting the people transform and nurture themselves.
近似見解： The anti-Confucian tendency found in Chapter 18 of Laozi: "大道废，有仁义" — "When the great Tao is abandoned, then there is benevolence and righteousness."
訳文： The Sage has no favorites; he regards the people just as he would grass and dogs (as equal with all things).
解読： This reading separates "刍" (grass/fodder) and "狗" (dog): grass and hounds represent the most lowly of plant and animal respectively. The Sage, in this sense, breaks through the hierarchical distinction between humans and nature — the common people are no more noble than grass and dogs in the Sage's eyes, nor are they any more base. All things are equal. This is an expression of the Daoist idea of "equalizing things" (齐物).
近似見解： Heshanggong ("圣人视百姓如刍草狗畜，不贵望其礼意" — "The Sage regards the people as mere grass and hounds, not valuing or expecting ritual courtesies from them"); the philosophy of Zhuangzi's "Discourse on the Equality of Things."
訳文： The space between heaven and earth — is it not roughly like a great bellows?
解読： This is the most mainstream interpretation. "橐龠" together refer to the bellows apparatus used in smelting — the outer part is a leather bag (橐), and inside it blows air through a pipe (龠). Its key characteristic is that the interior is hollow and empty; with each press and release, an airflow is generated, never exhausted. Laozi uses this as an analogy: the space between heaven and earth is the same — empty and void within, yet ceaselessly generating life. Wang Bi comments: "橐龠之中，空洞无情，无为故虚，而不得穷" — "Within the bellows, all is empty and without sentiment; it is empty through non-action, and thus cannot be exhausted."
近似見解： Wang Bi ("橐龠之中，空洞无情，无为故虚，而不得穷" — "Within the bellows, all is empty and without sentiment; it is empty through non-action, and thus cannot be exhausted").
訳文： The gap (the void) between heaven and earth — it is like a bellows and a pipe-flute (empty within yet generating vital breath), is it not?
解読： Here "间" takes the meaning of "gap, void," emphasizing the empty state of the space between heaven and earth itself. "龠" focuses on the pipe-instrument aspect. The void between heaven and earth is like the interior of a bellows and a pipe-flute — seemingly containing nothing, yet precisely because of this emptiness it can produce inexhaustible vital breath (the vitality of all things). This reading more strongly foregrounds "emptiness" (虚空) as the source of creative power.
近似見解： Heshanggong ("天地之间空虚，和气流行，故万物自生" — "The space between heaven and earth is empty and void; harmonious Qi (气) flows through it, and so all things are born of themselves").
訳文： The space between heaven and earth — is it not just like a great sack and a pipe-flute!
解読： Here "橐" takes the meaning of "sack, bag," and "乎" takes an exclamatory force. The space between heaven and earth is likened to a giant sack (the space that contains all things) combined with a pipe-flute (a channel through which vital breath is emitted) — emphasizing that heaven and earth are not merely a container, but also have the unceasing function of emitting life force. The exclamatory tone intensifies the sense of wonder.
近似見解： Certain interpretations that understand "橐" and "龠" separately.
訳文： The space between heaven and earth (and within the human body) — is it not roughly like a bellows?
解読： Heshanggong extends this sentence into a metaphor for self-cultivation and nurturing life: the human body is a microcosm of the space between heaven and earth; when the belly is empty, vital breath flows freely, just like a bellows. Heshanggong comments: "人能除情欲，节滋味，清五脏，则神明居之也" — "If a person can eliminate desires and cravings, moderate flavors, and purify the five organs, then spiritual illumination will dwell within." This interpretation transforms the cosmological analogy into a guide for personal cultivation.
近似見解： Heshanggong ("人能除情欲，节滋味，清五脏，则神明居之也" — "If a person can eliminate desires, moderate flavors, and purify the five organs, then spiritual illumination will dwell within").
訳文： (The bellows is) empty yet never becomes exhausted; the more it is worked, the more airflow surges out.
解読： This is the most widely accepted interpretation. It continues the "bellows" analogy from the preceding line — the bellows is empty inside, but it is never depleted by use; the more it is pumped, the more air comes out. This is precisely the nature of the Tao: inexhaustible in use, never running dry. "Emptiness" (虚) is the root-source of infinite possibility; "movement" (动) is the catalyst of creation. Wang Bi comments: "橐龠之中，空洞无情，无为故虚，而不得穷，屈动而不可竭尽也" — "Within the bellows, all is empty and without sentiment; it is empty through non-action, and thus cannot be exhausted; its bending movement can never be depleted." Heshanggong likewise: "言空虚无有屈竭时，动摇之，益出声气也" — "This says that emptiness never reaches a point of exhaustion; when it is stirred, even more sound and breath emerge."
近似見解： Wang Bi ("无为故虚，而不得穷，屈动而不可竭尽也" — "It is empty through non-action and thus cannot be exhausted; its bending movement can never be depleted"); Heshanggong ("言空虚无有屈竭时" — "Emptiness never reaches a point of exhaustion").
訳文： Empty yet it does not bend or collapse; the more it moves, the more it produces.
解読： Here "屈" takes its original meaning of "to bend, to buckle." Though the bellows is hollow, its structure does not collapse or deform from being empty — precisely because it is hollow, it retains its elasticity. Heaven and earth are the same: emptiness is not fragility but rather the wellspring of strength. This is a positive affirmation of "emptiness" — the void is not powerless hollowness but enduring resilience.
近似見解： Interpretations by a few philologists who emphasize the original meaning of "屈."
訳文： Maintaining a state of tranquil emptiness yet never becoming exhausted; the more one acts, the more one produces.
解読： Here "虚" takes the sense of the spiritual state of "tranquil emptiness" (虚静). This interpretation approaches the text from a self-cultivation perspective: if a person can maintain a tranquil and empty mind, their spiritual power will never be depleted; the more one acts from within tranquil emptiness (acting through non-action, 无为而为), the stronger one's creative power becomes. This directly relates to the Daoist cultivation practice of "achieving utmost emptiness and preserving utter stillness" (致虚守静).
近似見解： The cultivation path of Chapter 16: "致虚极，守静笃" — "Achieve utmost emptiness; preserve utter stillness."
訳文： Empty yet never yielding (never being subdued); once set in motion, it surges forth ever more.
解読： Here "屈" takes the meaning of "to yield, to submit," and "动" takes the meaning of "to set in motion." Though the Tao is formless and empty, it absolutely refuses to submit to any external force — it does not become weak because it is empty. Once it is activated, its power surges forth ceaselessly and irresistibly. This reading endows "emptiness" with a vigorous sense of strength.
近似見解： Interpretive approaches that understand Laozi's thought as embodying the principle that "the soft and yielding overcomes the hard and strong."
訳文： Empty and therefore never exhausted; the more it is worked, the more it produces.
解読： Here "而" takes the progressive sense of "and therefore" rather than the contrastive sense. Unlike the contrastive reading ("empty yet never exhausted"), this interpretation sees emptiness and inexhaustibility as a sequential, progressive relationship — precisely because it is empty, it is therefore never exhausted. Emptiness itself is the cause of inexhaustibility. This reinforces the positive nature of "emptiness": the void is not an "although, despite" concessive condition, but a "precisely because, therefore" sufficient condition.
近似見解： Modern philosophical readings that emphasize emptiness as the source of creative power.
訳文： Speaking too many words leads to repeated exhaustion (the depletion of ideas and resources); it is better to hold to the middle way.
解読： Here "数" takes the meaning of "frequently, repeatedly" (read shuò), and "穷" means "to be exhausted." When government orders are too numerous and commands are issued too frequently, one will repeatedly hit dead ends, fail, and accelerate toward exhaustion. It is better from the outset to hold to the way of moderation and balance — speak little, interfere little. "Holding to the center" (守中) means maintaining a state that is neither excessive nor neglectful, but precisely right. This interpretation is consistent with the chapter's overarching theme of "without benevolence" (不仁) — that is, not interfering excessively.
近似見解： Certain annotations to the received text.
訳文： Excessive government decrees only accelerate exhaustion; it is better to hold to (inner) emptiness.
解読： Here "言" takes the meaning of "government decrees," "数" takes the meaning of "to accelerate" (cognate with "速," meaning "swiftly"), and "中" takes the meaning of "the emptiness within" — connecting back to the "bellows" metaphor above and referring to the hollow center of the bellows. This interpretation unifies the entire chapter: heaven and earth are without benevolence → like a bellows → empty yet never exhausted → hold to the center (hold to emptiness), forming a complete logical chain of "governing through non-action" (无为治国). Wang Bi's commentary also implies this meaning: "橐龠而守数中，则无穷尽" — "Like a bellows, if you hold to the numerical center, there will be no exhaustion."
近似見解： Wang Bi ("橐龠而守数中，则无穷尽，弃己任物，则莫不理" — "Like a bellows, hold to the center and there will be no exhaustion; abandon the self and entrust things to themselves, and nothing will go ungoverned").
訳文： Speaking too much leads to repeatedly falling into difficulty; it is better to guard one's inner heart.
解読： Here "穷" takes the meaning of "difficulty, hardship," and "中" takes the meaning of "inner heart." This is Heshanggong's cultivation-oriented interpretation: excessive speech harms the body and depletes the spirit; once the mouth opens and the tongue moves, misfortune is sure to follow. It is better to guard the tranquility of one's inner heart, cherish vital essence, and speak sparingly. Heshanggong comments: "多事害神，多言害身，口开舌举，必有祸患。不如守德于中，育养精神，爱气希言" — "Excessive activity harms the spirit, excessive speech harms the body; once the mouth opens and the tongue moves, there will surely be calamity. It is better to guard virtue within, nurture the spirit, cherish vital Qi, and speak sparingly."
近似見解： Heshanggong ("多事害神，多言害身，口开舌举，必有祸患。不如守德于中，育养精神，爱气希言" — "Excessive activity harms the spirit, excessive speech harms the body; once the mouth opens, calamity follows. Better to guard virtue within, nurture the spirit, cherish Qi, and speak sparingly").
訳文： An excess of doctrines and theories only leads to repeated exhaustion; it is better to hold to the middle way.
解読： Here "言" takes the meaning of "doctrines, theories, propositions." Laozi criticizes the "Hundred Schools" of thought — the more schools and arguments there are, the further they stray from the Tao. Rather than a profusion of competing claims, each clinging to one extreme, it is better to return to the silence of the middle way. This interpretation is consistent with Laozi's thought in Chapter 20: "绝学无忧" — "Abandon learning and there will be no sorrow."
近似見解： The approach of Chapter 20: "绝学无忧" — "Abandon learning and there will be no sorrow."
訳文： Speaking too much will exhaust one's allotted fate; it is better to hold to emptiness within.
解読： Here "数" takes the meaning of "allotted fate, destiny" (read shù), and "中" takes the meaning of "the emptiness within." This interpretation carries a fatalistic overtone: excessive speech depletes one's vital allotment and shortens one's life. It is better, like the bellows, to guard the emptiness within — silence is the way to preserve life and protect one's destiny. Though not a mainstream reading, it shares common ground with Heshanggong's statement, "多事害神，多言害身" — "Excessive activity harms the spirit; excessive speech harms the body."
近似見解： An extension of Heshanggong's life-nurturing philosophy.
訳文： An excess of decrees and policies only leads to repeated exhaustion; it is better to rest content in harmony.
解読： Here "守" takes the meaning of "to rest content in," and "中" takes the meaning of "harmony, equilibrium." This interpretation emphasizes strategy in governance: issuing laws and regulations too frequently backfires. It is better to rest content in the way of harmony — neither excessive nor negligent, perfectly modulated. This resonates with "Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish" ("治大国若烹小鲜," Chapter 60).
近似見解： The meeting point between the Doctrine of the Mean's concept of "harmony" (中和) and the Daoist politics of non-action.
訳文： Speaking too much swiftly leads to difficulty; it is better to hold to the bellows-like emptiness at the center.
解読： Here "数" takes the meaning of "swiftly," "穷" takes the meaning of "difficulty, hardship," and "中" refers back to the hollow center of the bellows. This interpretation directly ties the final line back to the chapter's central analogy: the wisdom of the bellows lies in "holding to the center" (maintaining hollowness); the wisdom of heaven and earth lies in "being without benevolence" (being impartial); the wisdom of the Sage lies in "not speaking" (issuing few decrees). The three are one and the same throughout.
近似見解： Many commentators who take "中" as referring back to the emptiness of the bellows, including Su Zhe and others.
本章は合計25種の解読組合を含みます。
【核心的な相違点】
Chapter 5 is one of the core chapters of the Tao Te Ching's political philosophy. Through the threefold analogy of "heaven and earth — the Sage — the bellows," it progressively advances the central thesis of "naturalness through non-action" (无为自然). The chapter's structure is rigorous: the first two sentences (heaven and earth are without benevolence / the Sage is without benevolence) use "straw dogs" as a metaphor to establish the principle of "impartiality"; the middle two sentences (like a bellows / empty yet never exhausted) use the "bellows" as a metaphor to reveal the power of "emptiness" — precisely because it is hollow, it is never depleted; the final sentence (excessive words lead to exhaustion / better to hold to the center) uses "holding to the center" as a conclusion, distilling abstraction into practice. The interpretive divergences cluster around three axes: (1) Is "without benevolence" a total negation of benevolence or a transcendence of favoritism? Both Wang Bi and Heshanggong take the latter view, holding that "without benevolence" is in fact the greatest "benevolence" — treating all equally and letting things follow their natural course. (2) Does the bellows analogy emphasize "emptiness" or "movement"? Emptiness is the precondition (maintaining the void); movement is the function (producing inexhaustibly) — neither can do without the other. (3) Is "holding to the center" a political strategy (governing through non-action) or a cultivation practice (guarding emptiness and nurturing the spirit)? Wang Bi leans toward the former, Heshanggong toward the latter — but the two readings are not contradictory. Governing a state is like the alchemical work of self-cultivation: both require guarding emptiness and embracing simplicity.