Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
MATSUO BASHOHow much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice.
MATSUO BASHO -
When I speak My lips feel cold – The autumn wind.
MATSUO BASHO -
Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
MATSUO BASHO -
Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
MATSUO BASHO -
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?
MATSUO BASHO -
I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
MATSUO BASHO -
Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
MATSUO BASHO -
At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water.
MATSUO BASHO -
On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.
MATSUO BASHO -
Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
MATSUO BASHO -
Year by year, the monkey’s mask reveals the monkey.
MATSUO BASHO -
Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
MATSUO BASHO -
He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
MATSUO BASHO -
Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
MATSUO BASHO -
There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
MATSUO BASHO






