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On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening
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
Bare
Autumn
Branches
Evening
Perched
Crow
Branch
More quotes by Matsuo Basho
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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Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
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April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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The basis of art is change in the universe.
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Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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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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If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling
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Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
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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 sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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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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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 temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
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