Matsuo Basho Short Poems
Famous Short Matsuo Basho Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Matsuo Basho. A collection of the all-time best Matsuo Basho short poems
by
Matsuo Basho
In the twilight rain
these brilliant-hued hibiscus . . .
A lovely sunset
by
Matsuo Basho
From time to time
The clouds give rest
To the moon-beholders.
by
Matsuo Basho
An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.
by
Matsuo Basho
Autumn moonlight--
a worm digs silently
into the chestnut.
by
Matsuo Basho
First winter rain--
even the monkey
seems to want a raincoat.
by
Matsuo Basho
A bee
staggers out
of the peony.
by
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.
by
Matsuo Basho
In the cicada's cry
No sign can foretell
How soon it must die.
by
Matsuo Basho
A monk sips morning tea,
it's quiet,
the chrysanthemum's flowering.
by
Matsuo Basho
Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
by
Matsuo Basho
The dragonfly
can't quite land
on that blade of grass.
by
Matsuo Basho
First day of spring--
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.
by
Matsuo Basho
A caterpillar,
this deep in fall--
still not a butterfly.
by
Matsuo Basho
First snow
falling
on the half-finished bridge.
by
Matsuo Basho
Taking a nap,
feet planted
against a cool wall.
by
Matsuo Basho
Heat waves shimmering
one or two inches
above the dead grass.
by
Matsuo Basho
A snowy morning--
by myself,
chewing on dried salmon.
by
Matsuo Basho
The oak tree:
not interested
in cherry blossoms.
by
Matsuo Basho
At a hermitage:
A cool fall night--
getting dinner, we peeled
eggplants, cucumbers.
by
Matsuo Basho
Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold.
by
Matsuo Basho
Spring rain
leaking through the roof
dripping from the wasps' nest.
by
Matsuo Basho
Don't imitate me;
it's as boring
as the two halves of a melon.
by
Matsuo Basho
How admirable!
to see lightning and not think
life is fleeting.
by
Matsuo Basho
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.
by
Matsuo Basho
This old village--
not a single house
without persimmon trees.