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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old – / These fields and mountains!

Matsuo Basho

I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
MATSUO BASHO

Air Home Quite Sleep
Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there.
MATSUO BASHO

Deep Enough Gide Leaving Object Subject Yourself
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.
MATSUO BASHO

Breathe Compose Dangerous Enemy Fall Hairs Mindset Tree Writing
Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
MATSUO BASHO

Age Float Time World
The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
MATSUO BASHO

Bright Burn Moon One Liner
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
MATSUO BASHO

Better Choice Leadership Life Original Poetry Reality Write
I hope to have gathered To repay your kindness The willow leaves Scattered in the garden.
MATSUO BASHO

Garden Hope Kindness Pay
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
MATSUO BASHO

Bridge Fall Snow
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 BASHO

Knowledge Learning Leaving Nature Wisdom Yourself
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
MATSUO BASHO

Day Journey Myself Sea Wind
Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
MATSUO BASHO

Collection Rain River Water
From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo.
MATSUO BASHO

Knowledge Nature Tree Wisdom
Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
MATSUO BASHO

Oneself Solitude Sound Wind Winter
A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
MATSUO BASHO

Memories Skeleton
Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
MATSUO BASHO

Children Moon Poverty Start
Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
MATSUO BASHO

Deep Learning Listen Nature Talk Wisdom

Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old – / These fields and mountains!

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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old – / These fields and mountains!

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