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The basis of art is change in the universe.

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
Change
Basis
Bases
Universe
Art

More quotes by Matsuo Basho

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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
Matsuo Basho
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
Matsuo Basho
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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
Matsuo Basho
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Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels
Matsuo Basho
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First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
Matsuo Basho
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Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
Matsuo Basho
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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
Matsuo Basho
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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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Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
Matsuo Basho
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Matsuo Basho
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
Matsuo Basho
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The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
Matsuo Basho
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
Matsuo Basho
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The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
Matsuo Basho
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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.
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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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
Matsuo Basho
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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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?
Matsuo Basho
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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
Matsuo Basho