Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
MATSUO BASHOI felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
More Matsuo Basho Quotes
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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
MATSUO BASHO -
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
MATSUO BASHO -
There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
MATSUO BASHO -
Old pond, leap-splash – a frog.
MATSUO BASHO -
I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
MATSUO BASHO -
Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
MATSUO BASHO -
The universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
MATSUO BASHO -
The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
MATSUO BASHO -
This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
MATSUO BASHO -
Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
MATSUO BASHO -
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?
MATSUO BASHO -
Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
MATSUO BASHO -
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.
MATSUO BASHO -
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
MATSUO BASHO -
The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
MATSUO BASHO






