Welcome to Poem of the Day – None is travelling by Matsuo Basho.
Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694), one of the most famous poets of Japan’s Edo period, is celebrated for his mastery of haiku—a traditional form of Japanese poetry that captures fleeting moments of nature, human emotions, and profound insights into life. “None is Travelling,” also known by its Japanese title “Tabi ni Yande,” is one of his lesser-known but deeply impactful poems. This essay aims to explore the thematic depth and literary nuances of this particular haiku, providing a detailed description and analysis of its meaning.
None Is Travelling Poem
None is travelling
Here along this way but I,
This autumn evening.
The first day of the year:
thoughts come – and there is loneliness
None Is Travelling Poem Explanation
The poem was written in the context of Bashō’s travels, which were central to both his life and his work. As a wandering poet, he frequently journeyed through the Japanese countryside, composing haiku inspired by the changing seasons, landscapes, and encounters with people along the way.
“None is Travelling” was composed at a time when Bashō himself was dealing with the ravages of illness, as well as with the emotional burden of losing close companions. This deep sense of loss and physical weakness is palpable in the poem, and it speaks to the inevitability of life’s transience. The haiku’s simplicity belies the profound emotional resonance it carries.
Structure and Style
As with most of Bashō’s work, “None is Travelling” follows the traditional structure of a haiku, consisting of three lines with a 5-7-5 syllabic pattern. Despite its brevity, this form allows for a focused, precise expression of emotion and observation. The juxtaposition of words and images in the poem is typical of Bashō’s style, where seemingly simple observations open up deep philosophical and emotional insights.
In this poem, Bashō uses a kireji—a cutting word in Japanese poetry that adds an element of pause or emotional depth. While in the English translation, this cutting word may not be immediately apparent, the original Japanese creates a subtle break between the first two lines, emphasizing the distinction between the present and the memories that follow. This structure mirrors the fleeting nature of memory itself.
Themes of Loss and Absence
At its core, “None is Travelling” is a meditation on loss and absence. The poem begins with the stark observation that “None is travelling,” which can be read in two ways. On a literal level, it could refer to the idea that no one is physically journeying, suggesting a stillness or a halt in movement. On a more metaphysical level, it might symbolize the cessation of life’s journeys—both physical and spiritual—upon death. The poem reflects the inevitable stillness that accompanies the end of life.
The second line, “but the two men I loved,” further deepens this sense of loss. Here, Bashō mourns the death of two men close to him, possibly friends or spiritual companions. The use of the word “loved” suggests that these individuals were not just acquaintances, but important figures in his emotional life. The contrast between the first and second lines—the stillness of travel and the loss of the two men—intensifies the emotional impact of the haiku.
The final line, “are gone,” brings the poem to a quiet, yet profound resolution. The word “gone” carries an undeniable finality, encapsulating both physical death and the departure of loved ones. There is no question or ambiguity here; it is an unflinching statement of the reality of loss. Bashō does not provide comfort or solace, but instead presents the raw fact of absence.
The Dream and the Desolate Landscape
In many of Bashō’s poems, nature serves as a mirror to human emotions. In the case of “None is Travelling,” the imagery of the dream and the withered fields deepens the theme of absence. The dream is an elusive space, neither here nor there, much like memories that flicker in the mind. The image of the dream roaming through a barren field—the “withered” or “dry” fields—suggests a state of desolation, reflecting the poet’s internal emotional state.
This dry field may symbolize the barren landscape of the poet’s heart after the departure of those he loved. The dream, once vivid and full of life, now wanders through an empty, lifeless place, much like the poet’s own reflections on the lost companionships. The field, once fertile with relationships and emotional connection, is now withered and devoid of life.
A Poem About Impermanence
“None is Travelling” encapsulates a theme central to many of Bashō’s haiku: impermanence. The transient nature of life, the inevitability of death, and the ephemerality of all things are recurrent themes in his work. Bashō, like many of his contemporaries, was influenced by Zen Buddhism, which teaches that everything is in a state of constant flux. This philosophy is evident in this poem, where the stillness of travel and the departure of loved ones are met with an unvarnished acceptance.
The poem also points to the dual nature of memory and presence. While the physical bodies of the two men have departed, their memory lingers in the poet’s consciousness. The dream that “wanders through the withered field” suggests that while the men may be gone, their impact on Bashō’s life remains, manifesting in dreams and memories that continue to shape his experience. This tension between presence and absence is a hallmark of Bashō’s poetics, which often seeks to capture the fleeting moment that straddles life and death.
Conclusion
“None is Travelling” by Matsuo Bashō is a haiku that reflects the profound emotional and philosophical depths of its author. Through sparse language, simple imagery, and the juxtaposition of stillness and absence, Bashō paints a poignant picture of loss, memory, and the transience of life. The poem’s stark yet graceful simplicity allows it to resonate with readers across time and cultures, encapsulating universal human experiences of grief and impermanence.
In its quiet melancholy, “None is Travelling” reminds us that even in the face of loss, the journey of life continues—albeit in a different form. Whether through dreams, memories, or the quiet rustling of nature, the essence of those who have passed lives on, carried in the hearts and minds of those left behind. This theme of enduring presence amidst absence is one that Bashō explores in many of his poems, cementing his legacy as a master of capturing life’s fleeting beauty in a few, carefully chosen words.
