April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
MATSUO BASHOTraveler’s heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Old dark sleepy pool… Quick unexpected frog Goes plop! Watersplash!
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I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
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The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, “I shall be unhappy without loneliness,” shows that he made loneliness his master.
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Traveler’s heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
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The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
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The basis of art is change in the universe.
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Seek not the paths of the ancients; Seek that which the ancients sought.
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Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
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The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of.
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Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
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Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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An autumn night – don’t think your life didn’t matter.
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All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
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This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
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Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
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From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo.
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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
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Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.
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Come, butterfly It’s late- We’ve miles to go together.
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The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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I hope to have gathered To repay your kindness The willow leaves Scattered in the garden.
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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
MATSUO BASHO