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Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.

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
Deep
Order
Enough
Something
Glimmering
Plunge
Hidden

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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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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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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 sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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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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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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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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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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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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I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
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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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Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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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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