Come, butterfly It’s late- We’ve miles to go together.
MATSUO BASHOSeek not the paths of the ancients; Seek that which the ancients sought.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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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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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old – / These fields and mountains!
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Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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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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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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Seek not the paths of the ancients; Seek that which the ancients sought.
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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
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The journey itself is my home.
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The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
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At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water.
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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The basis of art is change in the universe.
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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.
MATSUO BASHO