Poetry after Hokusai, by Bill Siegel

Blind Men and Elephant, from Hokusai Manga, by Hokusai (Japan)

Blind Men and Elephant

i.
Blind men, blind men!
Every year the blind men come
to climb and grab and poke.
They argue and litter the yard
with their sticks!
 
ii.
I hold the world on my shoulder,
fingers reach into canyons,
a continent rests against my cheek.
It is no small thing, this elephant world.
 
iii.
I am awash in a waterfall of hair.
Parting the strands, I feel for a ledge
on which to rest
but find none.
 
If you tell me this waterfall is a tail,
Then I think the elephant must be
a great mountain lake.
 
iv.
In ten lifetimes I could not 
put my arms around this pillar.
 
v.
Swinging loose from the sky, 
this elephant-thing
soars and wraps itself around me
as my fingers meet on its far side.
A strange bird, indeed,
that flies without wings!
 
vi.
You say this creature lives,
but I feel no fur, no feathers, no scales.
Does blood run through this stone?
Does its heart pump?
 
vii.
It was no small feat,
scaling this mountain.
But now I straddle its wrinkled peak.
This is the world as the priests teach it:
Vast and craggy.
But where are its trees?
Where are the rivers to run in its furrows?
 
viii.
Blind men, blind men!
Every year the blind men come
to climb and grab and poke.
They argue and litter the yard
with their sticks!

The Suspension Bridge on the Border of Hida and Etchū Provinces (Hietsu no sakai tsuribashi), from the series Remarkable Views of Bridges in Various Provinces (Shokoku meikyō kiran), by Katsushika Hokusai (Japan) 1830

Flying Geese, Grazing Deer

Geese fly beneath us
as we carry our bundles across
this chasm.
 
Far below,
clouds like glaciers creep
through the trees
giving us a false security.
 
On the far cliff,
grazing deer:
One eating the grass,
the other watching
the new season arrive.

Measuring a Pine Tree at Mishima Pass in Kai Province (Kōshū Mishimagoe), from the series Thirty-six Views of Fuji (Fugaku sanjūrokkei), by Katsushika Hokusai (Japan) 1831

​Measuring a Pine Tree

This tree bores into the earth
like a waterfall pierces the river, 
searching under the surface
for rocks to caress.
 
Even the three of us embracing its trunk
are not enough to welcome the tree.
We could tell fellow travelers of this holy visit,
but they follow their own road
seeking other miracles.

A Sudden Gust of Wind, from from the series Thirty-six Views of Fuji, by Katsushika Hokusai (Japan) 1831

This Wind

This wind would rip the cloak from my shoulders,
uproot the willow,
tear the boat from its mooring.
This wind would pull the grass out of the river,
snap masts in the port,
scatter houses.
 
Yes, my friend,
the wind would do all these things,
but is content to send you chasing your hat
along the path.

Kirifuri Waterfall at Kurokami Mountain in Shimotsuke (Shimotsuke Kurokamiyama Kirifuri no taki), from the series A Tour of Waterfalls in Various Provinces (Shokoku taki meguri), by Katsushikia Hokusai (Japan) 1832

Where the World is Born
​
Here is where the sky takes root
in the earth.
Here is where the world is born.
 
See there: on the bush above
the falls,
a drop of dew squatting
on a leaf.
​

Bill Siegel

Bill Siegel lives in the Boston area.  Recent publications of his work appear in Naugatuck River Review, JerryJazzMusician, Rust+Moth, Rabid Oak, and Blue Mountain Review, among others. He has also contributed to the anthologies, Indigenous Pop: Native American Music from Hip Hop to Jazz (Univ. Arizona Press), and Beyond Lament: Poets of the World Bearing Witness to the Holocaust (NorthWestern Press). He is currently working on a collection of poems inspired by Japanese woodblock prints by Hokusai, Hiroshige, and others.