Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
Matsuo Basho
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Matsuo Basho
Age: 50 †
Born: 1644
Born: January 1
Died: 1694
Died: November 28
Artist
Poet
Writer
Vaxjo
Matsuo Basho
Bashō
Bashô
Basho
Matsuo Bashou
World
Colour
Solitude
Winter
Wind
Sound
More quotes by Matsuo Basho
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
Matsuo Basho
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
Matsuo Basho
The basis of art is change in the universe.
Matsuo Basho
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
Matsuo Basho
Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
Matsuo Basho
Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels
Matsuo Basho
Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
Matsuo Basho
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Matsuo Basho
Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
Matsuo Basho
On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening
Matsuo Basho
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
From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
Matsuo Basho
For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
Matsuo Basho
He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
Matsuo Basho
A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
Matsuo Basho
My body, now close to fifty years of age, has become an old tree that bears bitter peaches, a snail which has lost its shell, a bagworm separated from its bag it drifts with the winds and clouds that know no destination. Morning and night I have eaten traveler's fare, and have held out for alms a pilgrim's wallet.
Matsuo Basho
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
Matsuo Basho
The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
Matsuo Basho
An autumn night - don’t think your life didn’t matter.
Matsuo Basho
The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
Matsuo Basho