Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer? — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo.… — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
Without the bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance to the whole world? — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
“In the end, without skill or talent, I've given myself over entirely to poetry. Po Chu-i labored at it until he nearly burst. Tu… — Matsuo Bashô Copy Share Image
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought. — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep… — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife. — Matsuo Basho Copy Share Image
