Winter is coming

Matsuo Basho, Free verse on Basho themes
January 2026

I spend a winter day hunkered down. I draw a picture of Mt. Fuji on a piece of paper. I compose a poem. The cold wind sings a song of sorrow. A rat finds the ice is bitter. My tea is cold. I listen to a distant bell on the hour. Across the river lies Edo. The snow falls on the bridge that is newly built. People hurry home. An insect sings his final song in the winter garden. The moon fades as I watch. A muffled voice, a sweet song within the palanquin passing on the way to the mountain castle. Where are the warriors in shining armor. The cold of winter, this winter night. A life of peace. Goodnight.

mono no aware, 物の哀れ, the pathos of small things.

Here is a Basho haiku I have not previously come across.

京に飽きて
この木枯や
冬住ひ
Kyō ni akite / kono kogarashi ya / fuyuzumai

I tire of city life,
I long to hear the cold wind whisper —
I retreat to my winter cottage.
.
Tired of this city,
I hear the cold wind calling,
I seek my cottage

— Matsuo Basho, Kyoto, 1691

Composed in the autumn of 1691. Either the cold wind whispers or it calls Basho back to Edo and his humble cottage. It would be his last trip home to Edo. What was home to Basho. First, Ueno where he was born, then the castle where he served his master. Then to Kyoto to study. Then Edo. Then the road itself, as a wandering poet. like Saiygo…

Yamanashi explains: It has been two years since Basho and Sora completed the journey, Oku no Hosomichi (1689). Preparing the book to be, Matsuo Basho has grown tired of Kyoto. He wishes to return to Edo… I long for a rural life where I can hear the cold wind whisper. Or, more likely, when I hear the cold wind call, I long to return.

A greeting poem to the samurai, Suganuma Gon’emon (haiku name, Kōgetsu).

京に飽きて, Kyōni akite, literally, at (に) Kyoto (京), I am bored.

You can also read Gabi Greve’s slightly different translation and explanation.

Winter

Winter, January 2026

“Winter is coming.” It’s all over the news. It’s January, I wonder what to do in the midst of a storm. Let’s stock up on a few winter haiku by Matsuo Basho.

Winter is coming
Oh, there is snow on the way,
The weatherman says

A monkey caught unawares by the snow and the sleet.

初しぐれ . 猿も小蓑を . ほしげ也
hatsu shigure . saru mo komino o hoshige nari

The first time it snows
even a monkey know what he wants
— a little straw coat.

Out for a ride, after a blizzard, I want to go home but I’m stuck to my seat.

冬の日や. 馬上に氷る . 影法師
uyu no hi ya . bashō ni kōru . kagebōshi

It’s a wintry day
I sit on a horse, frozen,
along with my shadow.

Just when we think, winter’s over …

初雪や . 水仙の葉の . たわむまで
hatsuyuki ya . suisen no ha no . tawamu

The season’s first snow
dumped on a daffodil leaf
— bending, it bows.

To most children, the snow is pretty, to some it’s sad.

霜を着て . 風を敷き寝の . 捨子哉
shimo o kite . kaze o shiki-ne no . sutego kana

All covered in frost,
laying down in the wind, asleep —
an abandoned child.

The snow is pretty
Some children make snow angels,
As some fall asleep

Winter Wind

A cold wind blows, it snows and snows. Winter, 1690, Genroku, 3rd year. Matsuo Basho had completed the long journey, that would one day become known as Oku no Hosomichi, but he had not yet returned to Edo. The end is near.

Ah, the bitter winter wind,
my face, my swollen cheeks
are painful

こがらしや .　頬腫痛む .　人の顔
Kogarashi ya . hoobare itamu . hito no kao
— Matsuo Basho, Winter 1690

The order of the haiku was reversed to make sense. Hito no kao, the human face. Hoobare itamu, swollen cheeks are painful. Some pundits suggest that there was a mumps epidemic. I suggest, as anyone would know, who walks in the bitter wind, the cheeks were simply red and puffy.

**A winter’s journey on horseback**, Hiroshige, source Wikipedia

Sake Anyone?

New Year’s Eve,
from dusk til dawn,
Sake anyone?
— Bashō no yōna, 2025

Eat drink and be merry, but there is hell to pay for a little buzz.

Like floating flowers
My sake is white,
My rice is black
花にうき世我が酒白く飯黒し
hana ni ukiyo waga sake shiroku meshi kuroshi
.
Cherry blossoms falling
Sneaking sips of sake
Behind a fan
扇にて酒くむ陰や散る桜
ōgi nite sake kumu kage ya chiru sakura
.
After drinking the sake
The bottle becomes
A flower vase
呑明て花生となる二升樽
nomi akete hana-ike ni sen nishoodaru
.
May swallows dance
but let not mud drop
in my sake cup
盃に泥な落しそ舞ふ燕
盃に泥な落しそ村ツバメ
sakazuki ni doro na otoshi so muratsubame
.
when I drink sake
no longer can I sleep
this snowy night
酒飲めばいとど寝られぬ夜の雪
sake nomeba itodo nerarenu yoru no yuki
— Matsuo Basho, sake haiku

I confess to liking the last haiku the best. Or maybe it is just that it resonates with me.

The more we drink, the less we sleep
nomeba itodo nerarenu

sake, the more one drinks, the less one sleeps

Snow upon snow

It is said to have been written in the first year of the Jokyo Era (貞享), 1684. A compilation of poems including Basho’s had been published called Shriveled Chestnuts. And Basho was on the road on the Five Highways on the first of his four major wanderings.

Snow upon snow
Tonight, the last month is December
Is there a full moon or not?

雪と雪 . 今宵師走の . 名月か
Yuki to yuki . Koyoi shiwasu no . Meigetsu ya
— Matsuo Basho

Version Two, when there is a glimmer of hope.

Snow upon snow
Tonight, the last month
Is there a sliver of a moon or not?

The Moon 月

It has been said that this haiku was written to settle a disagreement between two individuals (snow upon snow), each part frozen and unwilling to compromise. The moon was supposed to mediate the differences, but the cloudy weather and the snow got in the way. Tsuki is any moon. Meigtsu, refers to a full moon. A sliver of a moon (mikazuki) seems appropriate if we are trying to patch up differences.

雪と雪 . 今宵師走の . 名月か
Yuki to yuki . Koyoi shiwasu no . Meigetsu ya
image, Wikipedia

After a meal

Let us join Matsuo Basho in Edo. The year is 1683. Perhaps we are at Basho’s humble thatched cottage. More likely we are at the home of a friend as Basho’s haiku suggest he was not much of a cook. Perhaps it is late in the year, a holiday, a sumptuous feast, then desert.

After a meal
watch TV, then nap
— Thanksgiving

A meal is not complete until desert is served. A sweet rice cake called kusa mochi qwrapped in mugwort leaves.

Pale green, hey —
an ear protruding from
the kusa mochi cake.

青ざしや草餅の穂に出でつらん
aozashi ya kusa mochi no ho ni ide tsuran
— Matsuo Basho, 1683, age 40

青ざし (aozashi), pale green, the color of young plants or new leaves.

や (ya), used to convey emphasis.

草餅 (kusa mochi), a sweet Japanese rice cake made with mugwort (yomogi) leaves, a tall green herb. The mugwort is a digestive aide. Basho suffered stomach problems for much of his life.

に (ni), meaning “on”; 穂 (ho), literally “ear” as in the protruding spikes of the mugwort stalk.

出でつらん (ide tsuran), something that has “emerged” or “come forth.”

青ざしや草餅の穂に出でつらん
aozashi ya kusa mochi no ho ni ide tsuran

Hail

Lake Biwa at night
plucking the shamisen
the pounding hail
— Matsuo Basho, Fall, 1684

Lake Biwa / at night, the three string shamisen / sounding (like) the sound of hail
琵琶湖の / 夜や三味線の / 音あられ
Biwakō no / yo ya shamisen no / oto arare

Did he like it?

In the first year of the Jōkyō (1684), on the journey of Nozarashi Kiko, in Ogaki, near the waters of Lake Biwa, at a gathering at Nyogyō’s house, Nyogyō was invited to play a Japanese shamisen. (Background Source: Yamanashi-ken)

(Shamisen 三味線, a three string instrument that sounds something like a banjo.)

**琵琶湖の / 夜や三味線の / 音あられ**
**Biwakō no / yo ya shamisen no / oto arare**

Shigure!

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

life’s journey

By the summer of 1694, Basho was not feeling well and he knew the end was near. As if to sum up his life, he wrote this haiku.

making my way in life,
in a small rice patch,
back and forth
.
世を旅に代かく小田の行戻り
yo o tabi ni shiro kaku oda no yuki modori
— Matsuo Basho, late summer, 1694

As you like it:

traveling this world,
a lifetime working a rice patch,
back and forth
— Bashō no yōna, Thoughts on Basho while walking, Summer 2025

世を旅に	Yo o tabi ni	making my way in life,
代かく小田の	shiro kaku oda no	in a small rice patch
行戻り	yuki modori	back and forth

Back and forth,
Sowing and reaping,
Seeking answers never found.
— Bashō no yōna, Thoughts on the Dao, 2025

Plum Rain

Japan’s rainy season is called “tsuyu” 梅雨. It occurs in June and July. Because the plum ripens at this time, the rainy season is also”meiyu” 梅雨. Basho is refering to the fact that sometimes the plums collect mildew and turn sour. The Ume fruit, or plum, is a popular summer fruit. and the riper it gets, the more sour.

Written in Kyoto, in the 7th year of the Kanbun era (1667), when the artist was 24 years old.

Ah, the sound of rain falling —
to the ears, it sounds sour
as it rains, the plum ripens

降る音や耳も酸うなる梅の雨
Furu oto ya mimi mo san unaru ume no ame
— the poet who one day become Matsuo Basho, 1667

The poet, then known as Tosei 桃青, meaning green peach.