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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.

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
Masters
Completes
Poet
Attains
Five
Haiku
Three
Poems
Creates
Master
Ten
Lifetime

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Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
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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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The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, I shall be unhappy without loneliness, shows that he made loneliness his master.
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
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the universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
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Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
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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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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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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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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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All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
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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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Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
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