Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
MATSUO BASHOEvery moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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Friends part forever wild geese lost in cloud.
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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water.
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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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Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?
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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Not to think of yourself / as someone who did not count — / Festival of the Souls.
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Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
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This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
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Traveler’s heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
MATSUO BASHO