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Gary Snyder

Gary Snyder

Kisiabaton

Beat-up datsun idling in the road
shreds of fog
almost-vertical hillsides drop away
huge stumps fading into mist
soft warm rain
 
Snaggy, forked and spreading tops, a temperate cloud-forest tree
 
Chamaecyparis formosiana—
Taiwan hinoki,
hung-kuai     red cypress
 
That the tribal people call kisiabaton
 
this rare old tree
is what we came to see.

From No Nature

#Americans

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Altre opere di Gary Snyder...
Night Song of The Los Angeles Basin

Owl calls, pollen dust blows Swirl of light strokes writhing knot-tying light paths,
Above Pate Valley

We finished clearing the last Section of trail by noon, High on the ridge-side Two thousand feet above the creek Reached the pass, went on
 1
 1
For All

Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
 1
Piute Creek

One granite ridge A tree, would be enough Or even a rock, a small creek, A bark shred in a pool. Hill beyond hill, folded and twist…
Getting in the Wood

The sour smell, blue stain, water squirts out round the wedge, Lifting quarters of rounds covered with ants,
 1
Old Bones

Out there walking round, looking o… a rootstock, a birdcall, a seed th… plucking, digging, snaring, snaggi… barely getting by, no food out there on dusty slopes…
Endless Streams and Mountains

Clearing the mind and sliding in to that created space, a web of waters steaming over rock… air misty but not raining, seeing this land from a boat on a…
Milton by Firelight

“O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold?” Working with an old Singlejack miner, who can sense The vein and cleavage
A Maul for Bill and Cindy’s Wedding

Swung from the toes out, Belly-breath riding on the knuckle… The ten-pound maul lifts up, Sails in an arc overhead, And then lifts you!
Finding the Space in the Heart

I first saw it in the sixties, driving a Volkswagen camper with a fierce gay poet and a lovely but dangerous girl with a h… we came down from Canada
 1
Kyoto: March

A few light flakes of snow Fall in the feeble sun; Birds sing in the cold, A warbler by the wall. The plum Buds tight and chill soon bloom.
 1
How Poetry Comes to Me

It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the Range of my campfire I go to meet it at the
Four Poems for Robin

Siwashing it out once in Siuslaw… I slept under rhododendron All night blossoms fell Shivering on a sheet of cardboar… Feet stuck in my pack
I Went into the Maverick Bar

I went into the Maverick Bar In Farmington, New Mexico. And drank double shots of bourbon backed with beer. My long hair was tucked up under a…
Hay for the Horses

He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the Dangerous Mountain roads, And pulled in at eight a.m.



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