Quote

Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?

Matsuo Basho

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Fans
Ends
Scribbled
Farewell
Tear
Summer
Tears

More quotes by Matsuo Basho

Image
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
Matsuo Basho
Image
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
Matsuo Basho
Image
Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
Matsuo Basho
Image
A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
Matsuo Basho
Image
I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
Matsuo Basho
Image
The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of.
Matsuo Basho
Image
He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
Matsuo Basho
Image
The basis of art is change in the universe.
Matsuo Basho
Image
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.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Matsuo Basho
Image
the universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
Matsuo Basho
Image
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
Matsuo Basho
Image
When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
Matsuo Basho
Image
If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling
Matsuo Basho
Image
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
Matsuo Basho