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Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.

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
Pained
Flowers
Flower
True
Come
World

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When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
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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.
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The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
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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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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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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
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Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
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The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, I shall be unhappy without loneliness, shows that he made loneliness his master.
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