April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
MATSUO BASHOLearn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
MATSUO BASHO -
Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
MATSUO BASHO -
This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
MATSUO BASHO -
Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
MATSUO BASHO -
Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
MATSUO BASHO -
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.
MATSUO BASHO -
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
MATSUO BASHO -
Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
MATSUO BASHO -
A flute with no holes is not a flute.
MATSUO BASHO -
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
MATSUO BASHO -
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
MATSUO BASHO -
The basis of art is change in the universe.
MATSUO BASHO -
Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
MATSUO BASHO -
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHO -
The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
MATSUO BASHO