At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water.
MATSUO BASHOLearn the rules, and then forget them.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
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Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
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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.
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Don’t imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
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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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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
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Learn the rules, and then forget them.
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Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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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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The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
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Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
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From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo.
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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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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, “I shall be unhappy without loneliness,” shows that he made loneliness his master.
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Friends part forever wild geese lost in cloud.
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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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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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Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
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Make the universe your companion, always bearing in mind the true nature of things-mountains and rivers, trees and grasses, and humanity-and enjoy the falling blossoms and the scattering leaves.
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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old – / These fields and mountains!
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Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
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Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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Year by year, the monkey’s mask reveals the monkey.
MATSUO BASHO