Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
MATSUO BASHOYear’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
MATSUO BASHOThe moon is brighter since the barn burned.
MATSUO BASHOOn a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.
MATSUO BASHOI am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
MATSUO BASHOHarvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
MATSUO BASHOCome out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
MATSUO BASHOReal poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
MATSUO BASHOCome, butterfly It’s late- We’ve miles to go together.
MATSUO BASHOWhen I speak My lips feel cold – The autumn wind.
MATSUO BASHOThe journey itself is my home.
MATSUO BASHONothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHODo not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
MATSUO BASHOSpring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
MATSUO BASHOCollecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
MATSUO BASHOPlunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
MATSUO BASHOClapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
MATSUO BASHO