Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
MATSUO BASHOOld dark sleepy pool… Quick unexpected frog Goes plop! Watersplash!
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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Breaking the silence Of an ancient pond, A frog jumped into water – A deep resonance.
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Make the universe your companion, always bearing in mind the true nature of things-mountains and rivers, trees and grasses, and humanity-and enjoy the falling blossoms and the scattering leaves.
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On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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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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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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The universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
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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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An autumn night – don’t think your life didn’t matter.
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I hope to have gathered To repay your kindness The willow leaves Scattered in the garden.
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All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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Friends part forever wild geese lost in cloud.
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Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
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He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
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Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
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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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April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
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Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.
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Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
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The journey itself is my home.
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Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice.
MATSUO BASHO