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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
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
Feel
Feels
Autumn
Lips
Wind
Cold
Fall
Speak
More quotes by Matsuo Basho
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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Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
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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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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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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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I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
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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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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
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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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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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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 haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of.
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Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate
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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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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
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Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
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