临渊羡鱼

Lín Yuān Xiàn Yú

光是羡慕没有用,不如动手去做。空想不如行动。

Wishing for fish at the pond's edge is useless — better go home and weave a net.

shíhòuwèilǎoshīdàizhexuéshēngzàibiānsànshuǐqīngqīngqúnzàishuǐyóuláiyóulínzàiyángguāngxiàshǎnshǎnliàng

xuéshēngkàndāilezhezuǐshuō:“zhèxiēzhēnféiyàoshìnéngchīshàngtiáogāiduōhǎoa!”lìngxuéshēnggēnzhetàn:“menyòuméiyǒuwǎngzhǐnéngkànzhe。”

lǎoshītīnglexiàozheshuō:“línyuānxiàn退tuìérjiéwǎngzhànzàishuǐbiānxiànháihuíjiāzhīzhāngwǎng。”

xuéshēngmentīngledōuxiàletóumenmíngbáileguāngshìzhànzàikōngxiànshìhuìtiàodàoànshàngdeyàoxiǎngchīdàojiùyàodòngshǒuzhǔnbèigōngrènzhēnzuò

zhèhuàchūhàndàidehànshū》。hòuláirénmenchángyònglínyuānxiànláixǐngkōngxiǎngméiyǒuyòngxíngdòngcáizhòngyào

Long ago, a teacher took his students for a walk along a river. The water was clear, and schools of fish were swimming back and forth, their scales flashing in the sunlight.

One student stared and said with a click of his tongue, “Those fish look so fat! If only we could eat one — how wonderful that would be.” Another sighed, “But we have no net. All we can do is look.”

Their teacher smiled. “Standing by the pool wishing for fish is not as good as going home and weaving a net.”

The students lowered their heads. They understood: no matter how much they envied the fish, the fish would never jump onto the bank. To eat fish, one must prepare the tools and do the work.

The saying comes from the Han dynasty history Hanshu. Today “envying fish by the water” reminds us that wishing alone changes nothing — only action does.