The second of Basho's travel journeys in the book I am currently reading (though it occurs chronologically earlier than the first) finds him travelling in the company of one, Chiri. He has no possessions or provisions with him, "entering emptiness under the midnight moon." This is Basho quoting a 'Chinese sage.' It is autumn, and his bones are "weather-beaten." Very early on they encounter a two-year boy, who is unaccountably alone by the side of a river. They mourn his fate. I write:

finding a child
abandoned by an autumn stream
the poet's heart melts

I really like this short narrative, which seems more at ease than Narrow Road and is filled to the brim with haiku. He writes poems for people he meets, finds his brothers in his old village home, visits ruined temples and tombs. He reflects upon his declining vigour, that he was "prepared to make this long journey even if it meant ending as bones exposed in some field." Not many of us set out with such a view.

While we've lived our lives
they've survived to still blossom
these old cherry trees