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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.
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
Fifty
Haiku
Subject
Seventy
Subjects
Seventies
Percent
Tire
Good
Eighty
Never
Reveals
Sixty
Reveal
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The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
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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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The basis of art is change in the universe.
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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
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Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
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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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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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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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When composing a verse let there not be a hair's breath separating your mind from what you write composition of a poem must be done in an instant, like a woodcutter felling a huge tree or a swordsman leaping at a dangerous enemy.
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Orchidbreathing incense into butterfly's wings
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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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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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
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