After wandering from place to place I returned to Edo and spent the winter in a place called Tachibana, where I am still, though it is the second month of the new year. During this time I have tried to give up poetry and remain silent, but everytime I did so a poetic sentiment would solicit my heart and something would flicker in my mind. Such is the magic spell of poetry.
Because of it, I abandoned everything and left home; almost penniless, I have kept myself by going around begging. How invincible is the power of poetry to reduce me to a tattered beggar.

Matsuo Basho-1644-1694
Learn From The Pine Back