Best 101 quotes of Matsuo Basho on MyQuotes

Matsuo Basho

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    Matsuo Basho

    All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Along my journey / through this transitory world, / new year's housecleaning.

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    Matsuo Basho

    An autumn night - don’t think your life didn’t matter.

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    Matsuo Basho

    April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances

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    Matsuo Basho

    Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.

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    Matsuo Basho

    A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.

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    Matsuo Basho

    At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water

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    Matsuo Basho

    Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice

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    Matsuo Basho

    Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate

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    Matsuo Basho

    Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Breaking the silence Of an ancient pond, A frog jumped into water - A deep resonance.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Do not resemble me-Never be like a musk melon Cut in two identical halves.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto

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    Matsuo Basho

    Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

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    Matsuo Basho

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

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    Matsuo Basho

    Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?

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    Matsuo Basho

    Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon

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    Matsuo Basho

    First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud

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    Matsuo Basho

    For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!

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    Matsuo Basho

    From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there.

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    Matsuo Basho

    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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    Matsuo Basho

    Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.

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    Matsuo Basho

    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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    Matsuo Basho

    How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.

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    Matsuo Basho

    How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers

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    Matsuo Basho

    I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.

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    Matsuo Basho

    I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.

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    Matsuo Basho

    If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling

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    Matsuo Basho

    In this poor body, composed of one hundred bones and nine openings, is something called spirit, a flimsy curtain swept this way and that by the slightest breeze. It is spirit, such as it is, which led me to poetry, at first little more than a pastime, then the full business of my life. There have been times when my spirit, so dejected, almost gave up the quest, other times when it was proud, triumphant. So it has been from the very start, never finding peace with itself, always doubting the worth of what it makes.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Just washed, How chill The white leeks!

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    Matsuo Basho

    Learn about a pine tree from a pine tree, and about a bamboo plant from a bamboo plant.

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    Matsuo Basho

    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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    Matsuo Basho

    Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music

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    Matsuo Basho

    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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    Matsuo Basho

    No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Not to think of yourself / as someone who did not count -- / Festival of the Souls.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Now the swinging bridge Is quieted with creepers ... Like our tendrilled life.

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    Matsuo Basho

    O cricket from your cherry cry No one would ever guess How quickly you must die.

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    Matsuo Basho

    Old dark sleepy pool... Quick unexpected frog Goes plop! Watersplash!

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    Matsuo Basho

    Old pond, leap-splash - a frog.