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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
Moment
Death
Moments
Every
Life
Poem
Lasts
Last

More quotes by Matsuo Basho

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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
Matsuo Basho
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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.
Matsuo Basho
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Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
Matsuo Basho
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April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
Matsuo Basho
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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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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
Matsuo Basho
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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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The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Matsuo Basho
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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
Matsuo Basho
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Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate
Matsuo Basho
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For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
Matsuo Basho
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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
Matsuo Basho
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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
Matsuo Basho
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Matsuo Basho
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
Matsuo Basho
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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.
Matsuo Basho
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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
Matsuo Basho
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The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.
Matsuo Basho
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Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
Matsuo Basho
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Matsuo Basho