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 BASHOThis autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
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No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.
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Old dark sleepy pool… Quick unexpected frog Goes plop! Watersplash!
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An autumn night – don’t think your life didn’t matter.
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Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
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Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.
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How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.
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When I speak My lips feel cold – The autumn wind.
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Old pond, frog jumps in – plop.
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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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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.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.
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Learn the rules, and then forget them.
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Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
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Year by year, the monkey’s mask reveals the monkey.
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There came a day when the clouds drifting along with the wind aroused a wanderlust in me, and I set off on a journey to roam along the seashores
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Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
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Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.
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Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice.
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This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
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April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
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Seek not the paths of the ancients; Seek that which the ancients sought.
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
MATSUO BASHO