by Chuang Tzu
Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu
Were crossing Hao river
By the dam.
Chuang said:
“See how free
The fishes leap and dart:
That is their happiness.”
Hui replied:
“Since you are not a fish
How do you know
What makes fishes happy?”
Chuang said:
“Since you are not I
How can you possibly know
That I do not know
What makes fishes happy?”
Hui argued:
“If I, not being you,
Cannot know what you know
It follows that you
Not being a fish
cannot know what they know.”
Chuang said:
“Wait a minute!
Let us get back
To the original question.
What you asked me was
‘How do you know
What makes fishes happy?’
From the terms of your question
You evidently know I know
What makes fishes happy.
“I know the joy of fishes
In the river
Through my own joy, as I go walking
Along the same river.”
Translated from the Chinese by Thomas Merton, from The Way of Chuang Tzu, New York: New Directions, 1969 (originally published in 1965), pages 97–98. The entire book is available on the Academia website. +
In The Dharma of Poetry, John Brehm says that Chuang Tzu has “empathic resonance” with the fish described in this poem. This is Chuang Tzu’s way of knowing. Who can deny this? However, does this generous stance apply to the writing of haiku? I often promote the idea of “knowability” in haiku, by which I mean to write about what you can observe through your five senses, as opposed to employing excesses of speculation or intellectual understanding, especially if it comes from an omniscient point of view. Chuang Tzu’s argument counters this perspective—or seems to. Whether it does or doesn’t, though, strikes me as beside the point. I see haiku as first-person poetry. In haiku, if the poem presents personal sensory experience, the reader can join the observation in a summoning of feeling or idea through their own shared sensory experiences. If the poem presents something seemingly “unknowable” (such as saying that fishes are joyful or by taking a third-person omniscient viewpoint), that choice too easily imposes an idea—and I’ve found that haiku work best by summoning a feeling or idea rather than by imposing it (this thought comes from an essay by Louise Glück). In that sense, it’s irrelevant if you “know” a fish is happy or if you don’t. Show me that the fish is jumping and I will know for myself that the fish might well be happy. I am not saying that Chuang Tzu is wrong. I am saying that haiku typically work better if they lean as much as possible on what you can experience through the five senses. This stance has been shown in centuries of the best haiku in Japanese, and a century of the best haiku in English.
—31 July 2025