black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.

Matsuo Basho

Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.
MATSUO BASHO

Fall Moon Night Tree
Old pond, frog jumps in – plop.
MATSUO BASHO

Old Pond
Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.
MATSUO BASHO

Knowledge Learning Leaving Nature Wisdom Yourself
Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
MATSUO BASHO

Children Moon Poverty Start
A flute with no holes is not a flute.
MATSUO BASHO

Deep Instrument One Liner
Traveler’s heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
MATSUO BASHO

Fire Heart Place Travel
Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
MATSUO BASHO

Drop Spring Tree
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHO

Cry Death Flower
Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
MATSUO BASHO

Enough Hide Order See
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
MATSUO BASHO

Existence Plant Rope Twisted
A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
MATSUO BASHO

Memories Skeleton
When composing a verse let there not be a hair’s breath separating your mind from what you write; composition of a poem must be done in an instant, like a woodcutter felling a huge tree or a swordsman leaping at a dangerous enemy.
MATSUO BASHO

Breathe Compose Dangerous Enemy Fall Hairs Mindset Tree Writing
Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
MATSUO BASHO

Moon Myself Night Water
The universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
MATSUO BASHO

Empty Intimate Relationship Unique Universe
April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
MATSUO BASHO

Balance Butterfly Leaves
The journey itself is my home.
MATSUO BASHO

Home Journey Myself

There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.

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There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.

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Popular Authors

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