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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.

Matsuo Basho

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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
Garden
Moon
Singing
Thinned
February
Insects
Thread
Winter

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Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?
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The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
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the universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
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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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If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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