Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
MATSUO BASHOPlunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
MATSUO BASHOFrom the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo.
MATSUO BASHOFor this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
MATSUO BASHONothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHOA flute with no holes is not a flute.
MATSUO BASHOThe sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
MATSUO BASHOCalm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
MATSUO BASHOCome, butterfly It’s late- We’ve miles to go together.
MATSUO BASHOCome out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
MATSUO BASHOWinter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
MATSUO BASHOWithout bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?
MATSUO BASHOA weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
MATSUO BASHOThe temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
MATSUO BASHOThe basis of art is change in the universe.
MATSUO BASHOI hope to have gathered To repay your kindness The willow leaves Scattered in the garden.
MATSUO BASHOWhen I speak My lips feel cold – The autumn wind.
MATSUO BASHO