Kenneth Rexroth.
All good poets are underrated these days, but Rexroth, though less well known then he should be, hold his own. His books- especially the translations of Chinese and Japanese medieval poetry- sell consistently. These are beautiful books. I would venture to call them perfect. They introduce a reader to a new world, they encapsulate that world wonderfully without seeming definitive, and they speak in a highly personal and moving voice.
Rexroth is one of the originators of jazz poetry, which gave rise to the beats. His was the first American poetry to truly embrace the poetic traditions around the world. In a sense he is poetry's Henry Cowell, another westerner who opened up this country to the world. And he railed against the elitism of the east coast scene. Moreover, he was self-educated and deeply, politically engaged. Perhaps most importantly he was a great nature poet who never fell prey to the impersonal, vadic voice that so often made mid-century poetry obscure and difficult.
Here is neat little overview of his books. And here is a poem, one that combines the voice of the chinese, the specificity of american nature poetry, and a rather beat cadence:
Yin and Yang
All good poets are underrated these days, but Rexroth, though less well known then he should be, hold his own. His books- especially the translations of Chinese and Japanese medieval poetry- sell consistently. These are beautiful books. I would venture to call them perfect. They introduce a reader to a new world, they encapsulate that world wonderfully without seeming definitive, and they speak in a highly personal and moving voice.
Rexroth is one of the originators of jazz poetry, which gave rise to the beats. His was the first American poetry to truly embrace the poetic traditions around the world. In a sense he is poetry's Henry Cowell, another westerner who opened up this country to the world. And he railed against the elitism of the east coast scene. Moreover, he was self-educated and deeply, politically engaged. Perhaps most importantly he was a great nature poet who never fell prey to the impersonal, vadic voice that so often made mid-century poetry obscure and difficult.
Here is neat little overview of his books. And here is a poem, one that combines the voice of the chinese, the specificity of american nature poetry, and a rather beat cadence:
Yin and Yang
It is spring once more in the Coast Range
Warm, perfumed, under the Easter moon.
The flowers are back in their places.
The birds are back in their usual trees.
The winter stars set in the ocean.
The summer stars rise from the mountains.
The air is filled with atoms of quicksilver.
Resurrection envelops the earth.
Goemetrical, blazing, deathless,
Animals and men march through heaven,
Pacing their secret ceremony.
The Lion gives the moon to the Virgin.
She stands at the crossroads of heaven,
Holding the full moon in her right hand,
A glittering wheat ear in her left.
The climax of the rite of rebirth
Has ascended from the underworld
Is proclaimed in light from the zenith.
In the underworld the sun swims
Between the fish called Yes and No.
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