Shigure! be it rain or drizzle, it’s bordering on freezing. — Bashō no yōna, September 2025
In late autumn of the second year of Genroku, September 1690, Basho’s disciples (蕉門 shomon) gathered at an inn or tea house (亭te) in Iga Ueno. As everyone waited for the hot tea, they shuffled their feet and rubbed their hands in the chilly inn, Basho remarked:
to everyone and even the inn, the Autumn drizzle is freezing
人々を . しぐれよ宿は . 寒くとも Hitobito wo . Shigureyo yado wa . Samuku tomo — Matsuo Basho, September 1690
Note. Basho had been gone from Edo now for a year. He had completed the long journey into the northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi) in the summer of 1689. He was now spending time traveling around editing his magnum opus, which would not be published until after his death.
The famous Mariko teahouse by Utagawa Hiroshige, Wikipedia
A skylark singing, in the midst of its song, a pheasant squawking! . A skylark singing, to the sound of a pheasant drumming along
雲雀鳴く中の拍子や雉子の声 Hibari naku / Naka no hyōshi ya / Kiji no koe — Matsuo Basho, Spring, 1690 or 1691
Hibari naku (the skylark sings) Naka no hyōshi ya (in the middle of the song!) Kiji no koe (a pheasant calls)
Two interpretations are possible (or more). In both of them the skylark is whistling its sweet tune. In version one, the pheasant interrupts with its harsh squawk. In version two, the pheasant is beating its wings in rhythm to the skylark’s tune. Version two is harmonious. Version one is more lifelike, considering friends get along, but friends like to argue. In the middle of a quiet conversation, someone shouts out.
By 1690, Basho was getting tired of friends.
It is unclear as to whether this haiku was written in 1690 or 1691.
Genroku 3, Autumn of 1690, Basho’s letter, sent to SuganumaKyokusui 曲水宛書簡, from Osaka
Autumn turns into winter, when one grows older, weaker but no wiser.
In his letter, Matsuo Basho writes: “I drag along my walking stick, regretting my pointless travel and useless walking… Each night I suffer from the cold, my fever has gradually become a chronic illness. As winter approaches, I am heading to Ise.” (Basho’s birthplace, Ueno, Iga province, is on the way. Like salmon returning to the stream where they were born, one wonders.)
looking at lightning people not seeing how precious (is life)
稲妻にさとらぬ人の貴さよ inazuma ni satoranu hito no tattosa yo
Matsuo Basho,
稲妻 . に . さとらぬ . 人 . の . 貴さ . よ
inazuma (lightning) ni (not) satoranu (understanding), in a Buddhist sense. hito (people) no (of, for) tattosa (precious), the addition of saさ converts the adjective tatto貴 into a noun. Tattosa meaning precious or valuable. yo (!) implying both certainty and emphasis.
Leap of Faith
The point of Basho’s haiku is not that one can look at a flash of lightening in the night sky and conclude that life passes like that. Rather, it is that the great mass of humanity has little or no understanding of what it means to be alive.
All religion, one supposes, and Zen Buddhism in particular, involves a leap of faith, taking one thought and interpreting it in an entirely new light. An aha moment. I get it, or at least I think I do.
One sleepless night, listening to Chamath Palihapitiya on a Joe Rogan podcast (it’s almost three hours long).
Like a stone thrown in a pond, the conversation between Joe and Chamath expands. Topics include the impact of social media and artificial intelligence on how we think. Today, Chamath is best known as the Founder and CEO of Social Capital, a venture capital firm focused on health, financial service, and education, but his background includes forays in Facebook and an assortment of digital and social media ventures. Despite his success in the field of social media, he recognizes that his own children need to disconnect from digital platforms to learn how to communicate and connect with other human beings. At several points in the interview, Chamath stops to consider the impact of human inventions on psychological and physical health.
[Chamath has his own podcast with three other friends called All-In.]
“I’ll tell you what I think.”
“I am a disruptor.”
The essence of thinking is how we interpret data, as computers don’t infer, yet, that, and judgment is all that is left.
One has to listen, Like water on rock, Slowly we change. . Looking at lightening, Blinded at first, Slowly, the world comes into focus
— Bashō no yōna, October, 2024
稲妻 . にさとらぬ人の貴さよ inazuma ni satoranu hito no tattosa yo
Note.SuganumaKyokusui 曲水宛書簡, lent Basho the use of a hut on Lake Biwa. Basho called it the Hut of the Phantom Dwelling. Basho stayed there after his and Sora’s five month trip in 1689 that would become known as Oku no Hosomichi.
Basho added this haiku to his chorus on the transitory nature of life.
Soon I will die, And the scene will disappear, As the cicadas continue their cry
やがてしぬ けしきはみえず 蝉の声 yagate shinu keshiki wa miezu semi no koe
— Matsuo Basho, Autumn 1690
For what it is worth, I add Puck’s epilogue to a A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by Shakespeare.
Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber’d here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, … — William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 1596
[Note. This post was originally written in mid-July, two weeks after a long trip to Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. A week after a noisy, smoke filled July Fourth Weekend.]
Spring is long over. It is the middle of July and the weatherman is bemoaning the record heat on the east and west coast of the United States. And, although I am not there, a click on the computer tells me it will be in the 90s in Tokyo and there will be a mix of clouds and sun this morning followed by mostly cloudy skies and a few showers this afternoon.
Following Basho’s five month journey into Japan’s northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi) in 1689, Basho decided to delay his return to Edo to work on the notes he recorded and the haiku that he wrote on the journey. Throughout the fall and winter Basho spent time visiting with friends. Then, in the spring of 1690, a friend, Suganuma Kyokusui 菅沼曲水, offered up a cottage on Lake Biwa for Basho to rest and recoup.
This was the Genjū-an 幻住庵, the Hut of the Phantom Resident. Alone with his thoughts, Basho composed the “Notes of Genju-an,” (Genju-an-ki, 幻住庵記). The “phantom” for whom the cottage is named for an unknown samurai who abandoned his profession for seclusion.
“Spring is over. I can tell that it hasn’t been gone for long, for Azaleas continue to bloom, wisteria droops like rope from the pine trees, and a cuckoo now and then passes by. Even the blue-jays have sing their greetings, and woodpeckers, as woodpeckers do, peck at things, though I don’t really mind. Indeed, I rather enjoy the company.
I feel my spirit drawn to China to view the scenery in Wu or Chu (ancient Chinese States of the Warring Period when Confucius lived), or as if I were standing beside the lovely Xiao-Xiang rivers, or Lake Dongting. [see below]
Southwest of here, the mountains rises behind me. The nearest houses are a good distance away. Southern breezes with their refreshing fragrances blow down from the mountain tops, and north winds, dampened by the lake, are cool. Among the mountains are Mount Hie and the tall peak of Hira. And on this side of these mountains are the pines of Karasaki veiled in mist, as well as a castle, and a view of a bridge. On the lake fishermen with their boats are hauling in fish. I hear the voice of the woodsman making his way to Mount Kasatori. Then too, are the songs of the seedling planters in the rice paddies at the foot of Kasatori. At dusk, the fireflies weave through the air, clapper rails (chicken-like marsh birds) tap out their notes – surely I do not lack for beautiful scenes. Among them, Mikamiyama, shaped like Mount Fuji, reminds me of my old house in Edo – Musashino [see below]. Mt.Tanakami [see below] sets me to counting all the ancient poets who are associated with it.” Matsuo Basho, from the Notes of Genju-an, Summer 1690
Notes. “You had to be there.” A phrase meaning Basho’s references only make sense if one had been present. It is a philosophical thing. Present impressions are best, then come memories, and by association an explanation of a place one has never to.
Lake Biwa. Japan’s largest inland lake. Basho spent much time here. He chose to be buried at the Gichū-ji Temple at Otsu, on Lake Biwa.
Hira Mountain Range, west of Lake Biwa providing a stunning snow capped view of the lake. Compare the Grand Tetons and Jackson, Wyoming.
Pine trees at Karasaki. Thousand year old pine trees, part of the Eight Views of Omi.
Xiao-Xiang. The Eight Views of Xiao-Xiang in Hunan province was a famous series of paintings from the Song dynasty. They, in turn, inspired the Eight Views of Omi, around Lake Biwa where Basho was staying. Basho is comparing Lake Dongting to Lake Biwa.
Mt. Mikamiyama, along the shores of Lake Biwa, an extinct volcano and much smaller version of Mt. Fuji.
Mushashino. This home in western Tokyo must have been Basho’s home when he first arrived in Edo before Basho-an.
Mt.Tanakami. It is known for its cypress trees. The reference is unclear. Perhaps because of Tanka 短歌, meaning a “short poem” and a genre of classical Japanese poetry.
The castle mentioned is likely Zeze Castle. The bridge Setanokara, see the image below.
P.S.
One always relies on others. Much of the information for this post, including the quote, comes from Gabi Greve, Darumapedia, Daruma Museum Japan.
matsuo-basho-haiku 