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Gary Snyder

Gary Snyder

Saying Farewell at the Monastery after Hearing the Old Master Lecture on “Return to the Source”

At the last turn in the path
         “goodbye—”
        —bending, bowing,
      (moss and a bit of
         wild
            bird-)
down.

#AmericanWriters

Altre opere di Gary Snyder...
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…
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…
At Tower Peak

Every tan rolling meadow will turn… Freeways are clogged all day Academies packed with scholars wri… City people lean and dark This land most real
 1
On Top

All this new stuff goes on top turn it over, turn it over wait and water down from the dark bottom turn it inside out
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
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…
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
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…
For All

Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
 1
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 sto… washtub down on the slab
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
Seaman’s Ditty

I’m wondering where you are now Married, or mad, or free: Wherever you are you’re likely gla… But memory troubles me. We could’ve had us children,
 2
Old Woman Nature

Old Woman Nature naturally has a bag of bones tucked away somewhere. a whole room full of bones! A scattering of hair and cartilage
 1
Meeting the Mountains

He crawls to the edge of the foami… He backs up the slab ledge He puts a finger in the water He turns to a trapped pool Puts both hands in the water
 1
Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout

Down valley a smoke haze Three days heat, after five days r… Pitch glows on the fir-cones Across rocks and meadows Swarms of new flies.
 1



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