Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHOFarewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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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 -
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.
MATSUO BASHO -
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
MATSUO BASHO -
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
MATSUO BASHO -
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
MATSUO BASHO -
With every gust of wind, the butterfly changes its place on the willow.
MATSUO BASHO -
How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.
MATSUO BASHO -
Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
MATSUO BASHO -
Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
MATSUO BASHO -
Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.
MATSUO BASHO -
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 -
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
MATSUO BASHO -
Don’t imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
MATSUO BASHO -
Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
MATSUO BASHO -
For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
MATSUO BASHO