Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn. Matsuo Basho More Quotes by Matsuo Basho More Quotes From Matsuo Basho Sabi is the color of haikai. It is different from tranquility. For example, if an old man dresses up in armor and helmet and goes to the battlefield, or in colorful brocade kimono, attending (his lord) at a banquet, [sabi] is like this old figure. Matsuo Basho color example men Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer? Matsuo Basho farewell tears summer The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound. Matsuo Basho ponds sound water Just washed, How chill The white leeks! Matsuo Basho vegetables white justice Now the swinging bridge Is quieted with creepers ... Like our tendrilled life. Matsuo Basho creepers bridges life O cricket from your cherry cry Matsuo Basho insects cry garden Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine. Matsuo Basho rope vines bridges On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening Matsuo Basho crow autumn evening From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall. Matsuo Basho spring tree fall I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air. Matsuo Basho air home sleep Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon. Matsuo Basho half two Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud Matsuo Basho geese clouds lost At the ancient pond the frog plunges into the sound of water Matsuo Basho ponds sound water If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling Matsuo Basho cherries knack fall First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge. Matsuo Basho bridges snow fall The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white. Matsuo Basho ducks nature sea Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness Matsuo Basho loneliness twilight sweet Do not resemble me-Never be like a musk melon Cut in two identical halves. Matsuo Basho individuality cutting two A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors. Matsuo Basho warrior summer dream Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon. Matsuo Basho poverty moon children