In the questions put by Tang to Ji we have similar statements: 'In the bare and barren north there is the dark and vast ocean - the Pool of Heaven. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, while no one knows its length. Its name is the kun. There is (also) a bird named the peng; its back is like the Tai mountain, while its wings are like clouds all round the sky. On a whirlwind it mounts upwards as on the whorls of a goat's horn for 90,000 li, till, far removed from the cloudy vapours, it bears on its back the blue sky, and then it shapes its course for the South, and proceeds to the ocean there.' A quail by the side of a marsh laughed at it, and said, 'Where is it going to? I spring up with a bound, and come down again when I have reached but a few fathoms, and then fly about among the brushwood and bushes; and this is the perfection of flying. Where is that creature going to?' This shows the difference between the small and the great.
Lin Yutang (1942):
It was on this very subject that the Emperor T'ang spoke to Chi, as follows: "At the north of Ch'iungta, there is a Dark Sea, the Celestial Lake. In it there is a fish several thousand li in breadth, and I know not how many in length. It is called the k'un. There is also a bird, called the p'eng, with a back like Mount T'ai, and wings like clouds across the sky. It soars up upon a whirlwind to a height of ninety thousand li, far above the region of the clouds, with only the clear sky above it. And then it directs its flight towards the Southern Ocean. And a lake sparrow laughed, and said: Pray, what may that creature be going to do? I rise but a few yards in the air and settle down again, after flying around among the reeds. That is as much as any one would want to fly. Now, wherever can this creature be going to?" Such, indeed, is the difference between small and great.
Feng Youlan (1964):
In the question put by Tang to Chi, there was a similar statement: "In the barren north, there is a sea, the Celestial Lake. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, and no one knows how many li in length. Its name is the kun. There is also a bird, named the peng, with a back like Mount Tai, and wings like clouds across the sky. Upon a whirlwind it soars up to a height of ninety thousand li. Beyond the clouds and atmosphere, with the blue sky above it, it then directs its flight to the south, and thus proceeds to the ocean there. A quail laughs at it, saying: 'Where is that bird going? I spring up with a bound, and when I have reached not more than a few yards I come down again. I just fly about among the brushwood and the bushes. This is also the perfection of flying. Where is that bird going?'" This is the difference between the great and the small.
Burton Watson (1968):
Among the questions of Tang to Qi we find the same thing. In the bald and barren north, there is a dark sea, the Lake of Heaven. In it is a fish that is several thousand li across, and no one knows how long. His name is Kun. There is also a bird there, named Peng, with a back like Mount Tai and wings like clouds filling the sky. He beats the whirlwind, leaps into the air, and rises up ninety thousand li, cutting through the clouds and mist, shouldering the blue sky, and then he turns his eyes south and prepares to journey to the southern darkness. The little quail laughs at him, saying, "Where does he think he's going? I give a great leap and fly up, but I never get more than ten or twelve yards before I come down fluttering among the weeds and brambles. And that's the best kind of flying, anyway! Where does he think he's going?" Such is the difference between big and little.
Richard Wilhelm (German):
DER VÖGEL ROKH UND DIE WTICHTEL. Im baumlosen Norden ist ein abgrundtiefes Meer: der Himmelssee. Dort lebt ein Fisch, der ist wohl tausend Meilen breit, und niemand weiß, wie lang er ist. Er heißt Leviathan. Dort ist auch ein Vogel. Er heißt der Rokh. Sein Rücken gleicht dem Großen Berge; seine Flügel gleichen vom Himmel herabhängenden Wolken. Im Wirbelsturm steigt er kreisend empor, viel tausend Meilen weit bis dahin, wo Wolken und Luft zu Ende sind und er nur noch den schwarzblauen Himmel über sich hat. Dann macht er sich auf nach Süden und fliegt nach dem südlichen Ozean. Eine flatternde Wachtel verlachte ihn und sprach: "Wo will der hinaus? Ich schwirre empor und durchstreiche kaum ein paar Klafter, dann laß ich mich wieder hinab. Wenn man so im Dickicht umherflattert, so ist das schon die höchste Leistung im Fliegen. Aber wo will der hinaus?" Das ist der Streit zwischen groß und klein.