Caricamento in corso...

The Bath

Washing Kai in the sauna,
The kerosene lantern set on a box
     outside the ground-level window,
Lights up the edge of the iron stove and the
     washtub down on the slab
Steaming air and crackle of waterdrops
     brushed by on the pile of rocks on top
He stands in warm water
Soap all over the smooth of his thigh and stomach
     “Gary don’t soap my hair!”
    —his eye-sting fear—
     the soapy hand feeling
     through and around the globes and curves of his body
     up in the crotch,
And washing-tickling out the scrotum, little anus,
     his penis curving up and getting hard
     as I pull back skin and try to wash it
Laughing and jumping, flinging arms around,
     I squat all naked too,
                                         is this our body?
 
Sweating and panting in the stove-steam hot-stone
     cedar-planking wooden bucket water-splashing
     kerosene lantern-flicker wind-in-the-pines-out
     sierra forest ridges night—
Masa comes in, letting fresh cool air
     sweep down from the door
     a deep sweet breath
And she tips him over gripping neatly, one knee down
     her hair falling hiding one whole side of
     shoulder, breast, and belly,
Washes deftly Kai’s head-hair
     as he gets mad and yells—
The body of my lady, the winding valley spine,
     the space between the thighs I reach through,
     cup her curving vulva arch and hold it from behind,
     a soapy tickle                a hand of grail
The gates of Awe
That open back a turning double-mirror world of
     wombs in wombs, in rings,
     that start in music,
                                         is this our body?
 
The hidden place of seed
The veins net flow across the ribs, that gathers
     milk and peaks up in a nipple—fits
     our mouth—
The sucking milk from this our body sends through
     jolts of light; the son, the father,
     sharing mother’s joy
That brings a softness to the flower of the awesome
     open curling lotus gate I cup and kiss
As Kai laughs at his mother’s breast he now is weaned
     from, we
     wash each other,
                                         this our body
 
Kai’s little scrotum up close to his groin,
     the seed still tucked away, that moved from us to him
In flows that lifted with the same joys forces
     as his nursing Masa later,
     playing with her breast,
Or me within her,
Or him emerging,
                                         this is our body:
 
Clean, and rinsed, and sweating more, we stretch
     out on the redwood benches hearts all beating
Quiet to the simmer of the stove,
     the scent of cedar
And then turn over,
     murmuring gossip of the grasses,
     talking firewood,
Wondering how Gen’s napping, how to bring him in
     soon wash him too—
These boys who love their mother
     who loves men, who passes on
     her sons to other women;
 
The cloud across the sky. The windy pines.
     the trickle gurgle in the swampy meadow
 
     this is our body.
 
Fire inside and boiling water on the stove
We sigh and slide ourselves down from the benches
     wrap the babies, step outside,
 
black night & all the stars.
 
Pour cold water on the back and thighs
Go in the house—stand steaming by the center fire
Kai scampers on the sheepskin
Gen standing hanging on and shouting,
 
“Bao! bao! bao! bao! bao!”
 
This is our body. Drawn up crosslegged by the flames
     drinking icy water
     hugging babies, kissing bellies,
 
Laughing on the Great Earth
 
Come out from the bath.
Altre opere di Gary Snyder...



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