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Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate

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
Ballet
Twice
Air
Butterflies
Meet
Twin
White
Mate
Twins
Mates
Butterfly

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He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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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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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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All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
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Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.
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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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Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
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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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I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
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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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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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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
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