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Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.

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
Conveyed
Drops
Trees
Rain
Spring
Tree

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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
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An autumn night - don’t think your life didn’t matter.
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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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Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
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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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The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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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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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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April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
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Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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Orchidbreathing incense into butterfly's wings
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Make the universe your companion, always bearing in mind the true nature of things-mountains and rivers, trees and grasses, and humanity-and enjoy the falling blossoms and the scattering leaves.
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