Who is Matsuo Basho

Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉, 1644–1694), born 松尾 金作, then Matsuo Chūemon Munefusa (松尾 忠右衛門 宗房), was the most famous poet of the Edo period in Japan. During his lifetime, Bashō was recognized for his works in the collaborative haikai no renga form; today, after centuries of commentary, he is recognized as the greatest master of haiku (then called hokku). Matsuo Bashō's poetry is internationally renowned; and, in Japan, many of his poems are reproduced on monuments and traditional sites. Although Bashō is justifiably famous in the West for his hokku, he himself believed his best work lay in leading and participating in renku. He is quoted as saying, "Many of my followers can write hokku as well as I can. Where I show who I really am is in link...
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Matsuo Basho Poems

  • Autumn Moonlight
    Autumn moonlight--
    a worm digs silently
    into the chestnut.
  • Winter Solitude
    Winter solitude--
    in a world of one color
    the sound of wind.
  • With Every Gust Of Wind
    With every gust of wind,
    the butterfly changes its place
    on the willow.
  • The Shallows
    The shallows â??
    a craneâ??s thighs splashed
    in cool waves
  • Haiku
    scent of plum blossoms
    on the misty mountain path
    a big rising sun
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Top 10 most used topics by Matsuo Basho

Winter 12 Autumn 11 Rain 9 Moon 9 Morning 8 Cold 6 Wind 5 Snow 5 World 5 Butterfly 5

Matsuo Basho Quotes

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Comments about Matsuo Basho

  • Estherhawdon: "i clap my hands and to the echo day dawns the summer moon." basho matsuo (trans. hoshimo tsunehiko & adrian pinnington) (image: yajuro takashima)
  • Jeffdungfelder: blossoms ambience. . . . “thanks for all” . expressing my gratitude to blossoms . at the parting. . — matsuo basho . . . . . (nyc)
  • Servet_ggk: school-age boys at pkk ranks posing with ak47 rifles. this depressing photo proves the terror group is recruiting children for their malign activities. the boy circled in blue mark is named hamza, 9yo, who’s been missing for 5 years. parents’ efforts to get him back proved futile
  • Poetrymagnate: four haiku matsuo basho spring: a hill without a name veiled in morning mist. the beginning of autumn: sea and emerald paddy both the same green. the winds of autumn blow: yet still green the chestnut husks. a flash of lightning: into the gloom goes the heron's cry.
  • Winningwriters: in the cicada's cry there's no sign that can foretell how soon it must die. ~matsuo basho
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On Receiving One Of Gloriana-s Letters
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Your pen needs but a ruffle
To be Pavlova whirling.
It surely is a scalawag
A-scamping down the page.
A pretty little May-wind
The morning buds uncurling.
And then the white sweet Russian,
The dancer of the age.

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