Basho's thoughts on...
• What Children Do: Basho Honors the Young
• Introduction to this site
• The Human Story:
• Praise for Women
• Love and Sex in Basho
• Children and Teens
• Humanity and Friendship
• On Translating Basho
• Basho Himself
• Poetry and Music
• The Physical Body
• Food, Drink, and Fire
• Animals in Basho
• Space and Time
• Letters Year by Year
• Bilingual Basho 日本語も
• 芭蕉について日本語の論文
• Basho Renku, 芭蕉連句
• Women in Basho
• BAMHAY (Basho Amazes Me! How About You?)
• New Articles


Matsuo Basho 1644~1694

The only substantial
collection in English
of Basho's renku, tanka,
letters and spoken word
along with his haiku, travel
journals, and essays.

The only poet in old-time
literature who paid attention with praise
to ordinary women, children, and teenagers
in hundreds of poems

Hundreds upon hundreds of Basho works
(mostly renku)about women, children,
teenagers, friendship, compassion, love.

These are resources we can use to better
understand ourselves and humanity.

Interesting and heartfelt
(not scholarly and boring)
for anyone concerned with
humanity.


“An astonishing range of
social subject matter and
compassionate intuition”


"The primordial power
of the feminine emanating
from Basho's poetry"


Hopeful, life-affirming
messages from one of
the greatest minds ever.

Through his letters,
we travel through his mind
and discover Basho's
gentleness and humanity.

I plead for your help in
finding a person or group
to take over my 3000 pages of Basho material,
to edit and improve the material, to receive 100%
of royalties, to spread Basho’s wisdom worldwide
and preserve for future generations.

Quotations from Basho Prose


The days and months are
guests passing through eternity.
The years that go by
also are travelers.



The mountains in silence
nurture the spirit;
the water with movement
calms the emotions.


All the more joyful,
all the more caring


Seek not the traces
of the ancients;
seek rather the
places they sought.



Basho Spoken Word


Only this, apply your heart
to what children do


"The attachment to Oldness
is the very worst disease
a poet can have."


“The skillful have a disease;
let a three-foot child
get the poem"


"Be sick and tired
of yesterday’s self."


"This is the path of a fresh
lively taste with aliveness
in both heart and words."
.

"In poetry is a realm
which cannot be taught.
You must pass through it
yourself. Some poets have made
no effort to pass through, merely
counting things and trying
to remember them.
There was no passing
through the things."


"In verses of other poets,
there is too much making
and the heart’s
immediacy is lost.
What is made from
the heart is good;
the product of words
shall not be preferred."


"We can live without poetry,
yet without harmonizing
with the world’s feeling
and passing not through
human feeling, a person
cannot be fulfilled. Also,
without good friends,
this would be difficult."


"Poetry benefits
from the realization
of ordinary words."


"Many of my followers
write haiku equal to mine,
however in renku is the
bone marrow of this old man."


"Your following stanza
should suit the previous one as an expression
of the same heart's connection."


"Link verses the way
children play."


"Make renku
ride the Energy.
Get the timing wrong,
you ruin the rhythm."


"The physical form
first of all must be graceful
then a musical quality
makes a superior verse."

"As the years passed
by to half a century.
asleep I hovered
among morning clouds
and evening dusk,
awake I was astonished
at the voices of mountain
streams and wild birds."


“These flies sure enjoy
having an unexpected
sick person.”



Haiku of Humanity


Drunk on sake
woman wearing haori
puts in a sword


Night in spring
one hidden in mystery
temple corner


Wrapping rice cake
with one hands she tucks
hair behind ear


On Life's journey
plowing a small field
going and returning


Child of poverty
hulling rice, pauses to
look at the moon


Tone so clear
the Big Dipper resounds
her mallet


Huddling
under the futon, cold
horrible night


Jar cracks
with the ice at night
awakening



Basho Renku
Masterpieces

With her needle
in autumn she manages
to make ends meet
Daughter playing koto
reaches age seven


After the years
of grieving. . . finally
past eighteen
Day and night dreams of
Father in that battle


Now to this brothel
my body has been sold
Can I trust you
with a letter I wrote,
mirror polisher?


Only my face
by rice-seedling mud
is not soiled
Breastfeeding on my lap
what dreams do you see?



Single renku stanzas


Giving birth to
love in the world, she
adorns herself



Autumn wind
saying not a word
child in tears


Among women
one allowed to lead
them in chorus


Easing in
her slender forearm
for his pillow


Two death poems:


On a journey taken ill
dreams on withered fields
wander about

Clear cascade -
into the ripples fall
green pine needles




basho4humanity
@gmail.com




Plea for Affiliation

 

Plea For Affiliation

 

I pray for your help

in finding someone
individual, university,

or foundation - 
to take over my

3000 pages of material,   
to cooperate with me 

to edit the material,
to receive all royalties 

from sales, to spread

Basho’s wisdom worldwide,
and preserve for

future generations.


basho4humanity

@gmail.com

 



Home  >  Topics  >  Basho Renku, 芭蕉連句  >  K-16


Verses Only: Renku 6

For commentaries and Japanese originals, see Renku Section 6

Legend:
Words of Basho in bold
Words of other poets not bold

Without a sense for ordinary words as precious, you will get mixed up
in an old style.  俗語の遣やう風流なくて、又古風にまぎれ候事

 

           
Mountains are burned                                   6: 11 
grass painted with blood   
Only a few years   
in this world, betrayed  
by her stepmother  
Grief on a pillow of waves
in northern harbor town

 

 

 

Frog asleep,                                                    6: 14
may you borrow dreams
from the butterfly

 

 

Sunshiny day
celestial maiden caresses
the rock spring

 

Chant of Lotus Sutra                                       6: 15
at the window elegantly

 

 

 

 

Final day of
mourning, sadness speaks
through catalpa bow
Now in a world of grief                                     6:25
her mirror to sell

 

 

 

Papa gone, she cries
in bedroom till daybreak -
Never moving
yet covered by clouds
the North Star –
Today too for zazen                                      6: 28
climbing onto the rock

 

 

 

Summer rains                                              6: 33
gathering, rushing
Mogami river
A post on the bank
holds firefly here

 

 

 

Never snowed
on this pine tree, for itself,
has grown fat
Pressing down bush clover                     6: 55
wife of the wild boar 

 

 

 

Camp fires on the skirts
of mountain castle
Dedicating                                                     6: 59
his final meal, daimyo 
forbids fish

 

 

 

Pulled awake
to see the Full Moon
in her shame
Hair fanned by maids,                                  6: 74
her thin robe of dew

 

 

He stays for two nights
before his enemy’s gate -
Sweeping away
dreams, on the field stands
statue of Jizo
Longing for a wife's love?                                 6: 76
call of a mountain dog

 

 

 

Startled by clappers
a window in the thicket
Sister cries                                                        6: 79
for her life married
to a thief

 

 

 

Onto my face
falling and scattering
pear blossoms
Butterfly engraved                                             6: 84
beneath sake cup

 

 

“In from the snow
so fire will warm you,
I remove iron pot.”
Still in her nightgown                                        6: 89
yet make-up beautiful

 

 

 

As moon rises
we borrow a guard’s room
and bring sake
From the earthen stove                               6: 104
smoky autumn wind

 

 

 

Morning devotions
at a family temple
the bell tolls
One more day of life                                     6: 107
beggar on an island

 

 

Saying something,
the tree spirits respond
in spring breeze
Form of mountain princess
disperses in  the cascade                                       6:109

 

 

 

“Tomorrow strangle!”
goose alive and forced
into straw bag
The moon breathtaking                                        6: 110
market for army camp

 

 

 

The Priest sends away
my ordinary clothing
That my face                                                       6: 111
resembles my mother’s
fascinates

 

 

Oh so many
disappointments
assail me
The mirror reflects                                      6: 138
my laughing face

 

I

 

Butterfly mourns for wing
in shadow of candle
Spring rain is                                               6:140
tears at the tonsure
of a little boy

 

 

 

Pulling manure                                             6: 145
on a sled is strange
over the snow
One flock of crows
flying close to people

 

 

Pines and oaks,
battered as the storm
makes a sound
Child shot by an arrow                                       6: 147
bed of the wild boar

 

 

 

Still standing
he leaves his letter
near the door
Coins held in her hand                                6: 155
the grandmother cries    

 

 

Rear figure                                                 6: 163  (Haiku)
of one seen off, lonely
autumn wind
Until spring has come
falling willow shadows

 

 

Neighboring houses                
with no plan between them
become related
Whispers can be heard                  6: 164
across national borders

 

 

Only in substance
bullfrog has no croak
With one whack                                                      6: 179
of the cane awakened
to moon’s crescent

 

 

 

“So fine a moon!”                                                    6: 203
for wrestling, we step on
hakama to pull off
Sword drawn in a flash
then held to a stop

 

 

Four or five play women
wander about the boonies
In these scribbles                                              6: 205
I see ... the name
of your darling

 

 

 

First he wipes off dew
bamboo hunting bow
Autumn wind                                                 6: 207
saying not a word
child in tears
White sleeves passing on
in funeral procession


 

In a small silver pot
broiled parsley is served
Hand for a pillow,                                       6: 209
brushing bits of dust
from bed cushion

 

 

 

Rain clearing to cloudy
the biwa have ripened
As graceful as                                             6: 212a
the slender figure
of a goddesss
She wrings out red dye                               6: 212b
into the white rapids

 

 

 

Strike the bell                                               6: 213
for fun, so blossoms
scatter on us
Drunken crazies and                                     6: 214
April come to an end

 

 

Writing a letter
to his first beloved,
his hand falters
Accustomed to the world                              6: 219
the monk makes it risqué
Paper lanterns
intimately entrusted
to a hot spring girl

 

 

 

From last year’s battle
bones bleached white
On her day off                                                     6: 222
the wife escorted home
in falling rain
The fragrance of mist
as she washes her hair

 

 

 

Farmers get seedlings                                          6: 224
from ancestral house
Morning moon,
leaving baby to rock
in the cradle

 

 

My beloved
sends me this letter
I rip to shreds!
The face of a demon                                     6: 239
I cry out at the sight

 

 

To become a nun?
parting in the night
By moonlight                                                 6: 260
at him in his armor
she looks deeply

 

 

 

Now to this brothel
my body has been sold 
Can I trust you                                                 6: 275
with a letter I wrote?
mirror polisher

 

 

 

Crest on the kimono
shall melt in the dew
Grown children                                            6: 321
squabble over who
will inherit

 

 

 

Under the moon                                             6: 339
even a frowning face
is beautiful
She pounds the cloth
in argument with love

 

 

 

Now I speak                                                  6:  343
to the nun Shosho –
village snow
She was the pure sand
here the winter wind

 

 

 

A straw broom
only this, in old age
house of snow
Surrounding the brazier                                 6: 344
robes dyed black

 

 

 

basho4humanity@gmail.com

 






<< Verses Only: Renku 5 (K-15) (K-17) Verses Only: Renku 7 >>


The Three Thirds of Basho

 

 

I plead for your help in finding a person or group to take over my 3000 pages of Basho material, to edit and improve the presentation, to receive all royalties from sales, to spread Basho’s wisdom worldwide and preserve for future generations.

 

basho4humanity@gmail.com
Basho's thoughts on...
• What Children Do: Basho Honors the Young
• Introduction to this site
• The Human Story:
• Praise for Women
• Love and Sex in Basho
• Children and Teens
• Humanity and Friendship
• On Translating Basho
• Basho Himself
• Poetry and Music
• The Physical Body
• Food, Drink, and Fire
• Animals in Basho
• Space and Time
• Letters Year by Year
• Bilingual Basho 日本語も
• 芭蕉について日本語の論文
• Basho Renku, 芭蕉連句
• Women in Basho
• BAMHAY (Basho Amazes Me! How About You?)
• New Articles


Matsuo Basho 1644~1694

The only substantial
collection in English
of Basho's renku, tanka,
letters and spoken word
along with his haiku, travel
journals, and essays.

The only poet in old-time
literature who paid attention with praise
to ordinary women, children, and teenagers
in hundreds of poems

Hundreds upon hundreds of Basho works
(mostly renku)about women, children,
teenagers, friendship, compassion, love.

These are resources we can use to better
understand ourselves and humanity.

Interesting and heartfelt
(not scholarly and boring)
for anyone concerned with
humanity.


“An astonishing range of
social subject matter and
compassionate intuition”


"The primordial power
of the feminine emanating
from Basho's poetry"


Hopeful, life-affirming
messages from one of
the greatest minds ever.

Through his letters,
we travel through his mind
and discover Basho's
gentleness and humanity.

I plead for your help in
finding a person or group
to take over my 3000 pages of Basho material,
to edit and improve the material, to receive 100%
of royalties, to spread Basho’s wisdom worldwide
and preserve for future generations.

Quotations from Basho Prose


The days and months are
guests passing through eternity.
The years that go by
also are travelers.



The mountains in silence
nurture the spirit;
the water with movement
calms the emotions.


All the more joyful,
all the more caring


Seek not the traces
of the ancients;
seek rather the
places they sought.



Basho Spoken Word


Only this, apply your heart
to what children do


"The attachment to Oldness
is the very worst disease
a poet can have."


“The skillful have a disease;
let a three-foot child
get the poem"


"Be sick and tired
of yesterday’s self."


"This is the path of a fresh
lively taste with aliveness
in both heart and words."
.

"In poetry is a realm
which cannot be taught.
You must pass through it
yourself. Some poets have made
no effort to pass through, merely
counting things and trying
to remember them.
There was no passing
through the things."


"In verses of other poets,
there is too much making
and the heart’s
immediacy is lost.
What is made from
the heart is good;
the product of words
shall not be preferred."


"We can live without poetry,
yet without harmonizing
with the world’s feeling
and passing not through
human feeling, a person
cannot be fulfilled. Also,
without good friends,
this would be difficult."


"Poetry benefits
from the realization
of ordinary words."


"Many of my followers
write haiku equal to mine,
however in renku is the
bone marrow of this old man."


"Your following stanza
should suit the previous one as an expression
of the same heart's connection."


"Link verses the way
children play."


"Make renku
ride the Energy.
Get the timing wrong,
you ruin the rhythm."


"The physical form
first of all must be graceful
then a musical quality
makes a superior verse."

"As the years passed
by to half a century.
asleep I hovered
among morning clouds
and evening dusk,
awake I was astonished
at the voices of mountain
streams and wild birds."


“These flies sure enjoy
having an unexpected
sick person.”



Haiku of Humanity


Drunk on sake
woman wearing haori
puts in a sword


Night in spring
one hidden in mystery
temple corner


Wrapping rice cake
with one hands she tucks
hair behind ear


On Life's journey
plowing a small field
going and returning


Child of poverty
hulling rice, pauses to
look at the moon


Tone so clear
the Big Dipper resounds
her mallet


Huddling
under the futon, cold
horrible night


Jar cracks
with the ice at night
awakening



Basho Renku
Masterpieces

With her needle
in autumn she manages
to make ends meet
Daughter playing koto
reaches age seven


After the years
of grieving. . . finally
past eighteen
Day and night dreams of
Father in that battle


Now to this brothel
my body has been sold
Can I trust you
with a letter I wrote,
mirror polisher?


Only my face
by rice-seedling mud
is not soiled
Breastfeeding on my lap
what dreams do you see?



Single renku stanzas


Giving birth to
love in the world, she
adorns herself



Autumn wind
saying not a word
child in tears


Among women
one allowed to lead
them in chorus


Easing in
her slender forearm
for his pillow


Two death poems:


On a journey taken ill
dreams on withered fields
wander about

Clear cascade -
into the ripples fall
green pine needles




basho4humanity
@gmail.com




Plea for Affiliation

 

Plea For Affiliation

 

I pray for your help

in finding someone
individual, university,

or foundation - 
to take over my

3000 pages of material,   
to cooperate with me 

to edit the material,
to receive all royalties 

from sales, to spread

Basho’s wisdom worldwide,
and preserve for

future generations.


basho4humanity

@gmail.com