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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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
Summer
Tears
Fans
Ends
Scribbled
Farewell
Tear
More quotes by Matsuo Basho
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
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The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
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The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.
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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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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
Matsuo Basho
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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Sabi is the color of haikai. It is different from tranquility. For example, if an old man dresses up in armor and helmet and goes to the battlefield, or in colorful brocade kimono, attending (his lord) at a banquet, [sabi] is like this old figure.
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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
Matsuo Basho
A flute with no holes is not a flute.
Matsuo Basho
Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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An autumn night - don’t think your life didn’t matter.
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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
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Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music
Matsuo Basho
Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.
Matsuo Basho
The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
Matsuo Basho
Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
Matsuo Basho
The basis of art is change in the universe.
Matsuo Basho
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
Matsuo Basho
