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If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling
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
Cherries
Knack
Falling
Sing
Fall
Like
Flakes
Cherry
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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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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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.
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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.
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What is important is to keep our mind high in the world of true understanding, and returning to the world of our daily experience to seek therein the truth of beauty. No matter what we may be doing at a given moment, we must not forget that is has a bearing upon our everlasting self which is poetry.
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The basis of art is change in the universe.
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
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