Eve and I have read the Dao De Jing several times over the past decade and this is our favorite translation yet. Each version tells a different story, for the original words are so malleable, it is impossible for a reteller not to bend it to their own thinking. We once coaxed it into our book club when we lived in New York, and discovered everyone ordered different versions. Some were paternal, others scathing. This version retreats every so slighly into mysticism and lets the words toll kindly through the fog of centuries. His annotations add a lot. Laozai was writing at a period of incessant war, and his observations are newly relevant.
