by Nyogen Senzaki
Any script, ancient or modern,
Is an instrument to express hocus.
It can be arranged into lines, perpendicular or horizontal.
Our Bashō, however, wrote some hocus which transcends script
To produce poems of wordless word and formless form,
Man has to experience the loneliness of autumn,
Century after century.
November 2, 1939
From Like a Dream, Like a Fantasy: The Zen Teachings and Translations of Nyogen Senzaki, Somerville, Massachusetts: Wisdom Publications, 2005, page 50.