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.
MATSUO BASHO
MATSUO BASHO
Matsuo Basho on companion
“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.”
More Matsuo Basho quotes
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Learn the rules, and then forget them.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo 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 BashoMatsuo Basho Don’t imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho Come, butterfly It’s late- We’ve miles to go together.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves, a butterfly Floats and balances.
Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho