This autumn-
why am I growing old?
bird disappearing among clouds.
Winter solitude-
in a world of one colour
the sound of the wind.
Harvest moon:
around the pond I wander
and the night is gone.
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise; seek what they sought.
Matsuo BashōTags: wisdom
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.
Sadly, I part from you;
Like a clam torn from its shell,
I go, and autumn too.
The journey itself is my home.
Matsuo BashōTags: travel
The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Matsuo BashōReal poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
Matsuo BashōTags: poetry
Between our two lives
there is also the life of
the cherry blossom.
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