A devoted student of Zen Buddhism, Bashō describes with exquisite simplicity images of the natural world as he sets off in this elegant travelogue into the wilderness: the brightness of a full moon the beauty of a waterfall the baptism of falling rain. When we got off the boat at Senju, however, the thought of three thousand miles before me suddenly filled my heart and neither the houses of the town nor the faces of my friends could be seen by my tearful eyes except as a vision.ĪND THUS THE opening lines of Bashō’s classic tale, The Narrow Road to the Deep North, entice us to accompany the Japanese haiku poet and diarist (1644–28th November 1694) on a tantalizing journey, at once a perilous expedition through seventeenth-century Japan and an individual quest for spiritual enlightenment. My friends had got together the night before and they all came with me on the boat to keep me company for the first few miles. The faint shadow of Mount Fuji and the cherry blossoms of Ueno and Yanaka were bidding me a last farewell. There was darkness lingering in the sky and the moon was still visible, though gradually thinning away. It was early on the morning of March the twenty-seventh that I took to the road. I myself have been tempted for a long time by the cloud-moving wind-filled with a strong desire to wander … There are a great number of the ancients, too, who died on the road. Those who steer a boat across the sea, or drive a horse over the earth till they succumb to the weight of years, spend every minute of their lives travelling.
Photograph: Public Domain Dreams wander onĭays and months are the travellers of eternity. Katsushika Hokusai, Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji,
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