Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
MATSUO BASHOFarewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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Old pond, frog jumps in – plop.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.
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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
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The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
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Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
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This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
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Do not resemble me-Never be like a musk melon Cut in two identical halves.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.
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Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice.
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Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
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Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
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Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.
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Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
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Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?
MATSUO BASHO