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Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.

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
Poem
Lasts
Last
Moment
Death
Moments
Every
Life

More quotes by Matsuo Basho

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Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.
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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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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
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Orchidbreathing incense into butterfly's wings
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Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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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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Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
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The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
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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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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.
Matsuo Basho
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Matsuo Basho
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Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
Matsuo Basho
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
Matsuo Basho