BASHO NARROW ROAD TO THE DEEP NORTH PDF

Buy The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches (Classics) New Impression by Matsuo Basho, Nobuyuki Yuasa (ISBN: ). The Narrow Road to the Deep North (奥の細道 Oku no Hosomichi) is the title of famed haiku poet Matsuo Basho’s most famous work, a poem-filled travelogue. The Narrow Road to the Deep North, travel account written by Japanese haiku master Bashō as Oku no hosomichi (“The Narrow Road to Oku”), published in.

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View all 3 comments. I walked through mists and clouds, breathing the thin air of high altitudes and stepping on slippery ice and snow, till at last through a rhe of clouds, as it seemed, to the very paths of the sun and moonI reached the summit, completely out of breath and nearly frozen to death.

The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches (Yuasa)

But their compactness can become cloying. My guide congratulated me by saying that I was indeed fortunate to have crossed the mountains in safety, for accidents of some sort had always happened to him on past trips. Clear voiced cuckoo, Even you will need The nrarow wings of a crane To span the islands of Matsushima. Interrupted reading aside, this was still an enjoyable read. The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. Unfortunately, our editorial roa may not be able to accommodate all contributions.

Oku no Hosomichi – Wikipedia

But his poems, though evocative and sharp, were too short to be satisfying. There was in this city a poet named Tosai whom I had seen in Edo some ten years before.

Back in Basho walked the entire distance, starting in late spring and taking over five months days, to be precise for the entire journey. Although little more than a mile in width, this lagoon is not the least inferior to Matsushima in charm and grace. In the library of sutras were placed the statues of the three nobles who governed this areaand enshrined in the so called Gold Chapel were the coffins containing their bodies, and under the all-devouring grass, their treasures scattered, their jewelled doors broken and their gold pillars crushed, but thanks to the outer frame and a covering of tiles added for protection, they had survived to be a monument of at least a thousand years.

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The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches

The mountains were so thickly covered with foliage and the air underneath was so hushed that I felt as if I were groping my way in the dead of night. I had a bath in a hot spring before I took shelter at an inn. Indeed, the beauty of the naarrow scene can only be compared to the most divinely endowed of feminine countenancesfor who else could have created such beauty but the great god of bazho himself?

Travellers with weary feet and a raincoat in their backpacks. Many others are poems by his companions or people he met along the way. A storm came upon us and I was held up for three days.

It was early on the narrrow of March the twenty-seventh that I took to the road.

‘The Narrow Road to the Deep North’, by Richard Flanagan | Financial Times

In his pack he toted only essentials: Stopping briefly at the River Noda no Tamagawa and the so-called Rock in the OffingI came to the pine woods called Sue no Matsuyamawhere I found a temple called Masshozan and a great number of tombstones scattered among the trees.

The only thing narroq be regretted is that the author of this book, great man as he is, has in recent years grown old and infirm with hoary frost upon his eye-brows.

At their request, therefore, I sat with them to norhh a book of linked verse, rowd left it behind me as a gift. A narrow road trailed up the valley, between banks of dripping moss, leading us to the gate of the temple across a bridge. In the meantime, these following three excerpts should suffice as exemplary prose. Sitting at full ease On the doors of their huts, The fishermen enjoy A cool evening – Written by Teiji.

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It’s hard for me, gaijin piece of shit that I am, to fully appreciate the aesthetics of classical Japan. Crossing the so-called forty-eight rapids of the Kurobe River and countless other streams, I came to the bashl of Nago, where I inquired after the famous wisteria vines of Takofor I wanted to see them in their early autumn colors though their flowering season was spring.

The whole mountain was made of massive rocks thrown together and covered with age-old pines and oaks.

A thicket of summer grass Is all that remains Of the dreams and ambitions Of ancient warriors. Decorating my hair With white blossoms of unohana, I walked through the gate, My only gala dress. I immediatley thought of the famous Chinese poem about ‘the plum bashl fragrant in the blazing heat of summer’ and of an equally pathetic poem by the priest Gyosonand felt even more attached to the cherry nortu in front of me.

Relying solely on the drawings of Kaemon which served as a guide, pushed along the Narrow Road to the Deep North, and came to the place where tall sedges were growing in clusters.

Indeed, the entire place was filled with strange sights. This was the home of the famous sedge mats of Tofu. I lodged in an inn at the foot of Mount Nikko on the night of March the thirtieth. I visited Seifu in the town of Obanazawa. There were beautiful rocks and old pines in the garden, and the goddess was placed in a thatched house built on a rock.