This was recommended to me by one of my local librarians. I was quite excited to give it a try. However, it turned out to be just a total miss.

I had high hopes for this book, thinking it would be an interesting read. But from the very beginning, I found it difficult to get into the story. The writing style didn't appeal to me, and the characters seemed rather flat.

I persevered for a while, hoping that it would improve as I got further along. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The plot didn't develop in a way that held my attention, and I soon lost interest.

Overall, I was really disappointed with this book. It's a shame because I usually trust the recommendations of my local librarians. But in this case, it just didn't work out for me.

I found that I liked the poems of Cold Mountain slightly better than Snyder's 'Riprap'. However, 'Riprap' was still a good piece of work.

Poems of this kind have the potential to adjust one's perspective. They can, unfortunately, often only do so temporarily. But even this temporary adjustment can be valuable.

It's as if they offer a momentary glimpse into a world of shining diamond-like clarity. In that brief moment, we can see things more clearly, perhaps understand them in a new way.

Whether it's the simple yet profound words of Cold Mountain or the unique imagery of 'Riprap', these poems have the power to touch our hearts and minds and make us think about the world around us in a different light.

They are like little treasures that we can discover and enjoy, and that can bring a little bit of beauty and inspiration into our lives.

While I have a preference for owning each title as its own independent edition, I decided to pick up this twofer. The main reason was to get a sense of Gary Snyder, someone I had never actually taken the time to sit down and read properly.

After going through it, I found that both the Riprap and the Cold Mountain sections had their own merits. However, Riprap was more meaningful to me and it really allowed me to be fully present in the moment. The reason for this is that in Riprap, you get more of the real "Gary Snyder" as they are his original poems.

I would definitely consider re-reading both sections. But if I had to choose one to explore further first, I would head towards his mountains of the American West before venturing towards his summit in China. There's just something about the American West that seems to call out to me more strongly in his works.

Overall, this twofer has been a great introduction to Gary Snyder's poetry and has made me eager to explore more of his works in the future.

Down valley a smoke haze lingers,

Three days of heat, followed by five days of rain.

The pitch glows on the fir-cones,

Across rocks and meadows,

Swarms of new flies buzz around.

I cannot remember the things I once read,

A few friends, but they are in the cities.

Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup,

Looking down for miles,

Through the high still air.

- Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout, pg. 3

* * *

Walking in February,

A warm day after a long freeze,

On an old logging road,

Below Sumas Mountain,

Cut a walking stick of alder,

Looked down through clouds,

On wet fields on the Nooksack -

And stepped on the ice

Of a frozen pool across the road.

It creaked.

The white air under

Sprang away, long cracks

Shot out in the black,

My cleated mountain boots

Slipped on the hard slick

- like thin ice - then sudden

Feel of an old phrase made real -

Instand of frozen leaf,

Icewater, and staff in hand.

\\"Like walking on thin ice - \\"

I yelled back to a friend,

It broke and I dropped

Eight inches in.

- Thin Ice, pg. 16

* * *

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.

The moon begins first

Fourth, a faint slice west

At nightfall. Jupiter half-way

High at the end of night-

Meditation. The dove cry

Twangs like a bow.

At dawn Mt. Hiei dusted white

On top; in the clear air

Folds of all the gullied green

Hills around the town are sharp,

Breath stings. Beneath the roofs

Of frosty houses

Lovers part, from the tangle warm

Of gentle bodies under the quilt

And crack the icy water of the face

And wake and feed the children

And grandchildren that they love.

- Kyoto: March, pg. 22

* * *

Lay down these words

Before your mind like rocks.

Placed solid, by hands

In choice of place, set

Before the body of the mind

In space and time:

Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall

Riprap of things:

Cobble of the milky way,

Straying planets,

These poems, people,

Lost ponies with

Dragging saddles

And rocky sure-foot trails.

The world is like an endless

Four-dimensional

Game of Go.

Ants and pebbles

In the thin loam, each rock a word

A creek-washed stone

Granite: ingrained

With the torment of fire and weight

Crystal and sediment linked hot

All change, in thoughts,

As well as things.

- Riprap, pg. 32

* * *

The path to Han-shan's place is laughable,

A path, but no sign of cart or horse.

Converging gorges - hard to trace their twists

Jumbled cliffs - unbelievably rugged.

A thousand grasses bend with dew,

A hill of pines hums in the wind.

And now I've lost the shortcut home,

Body asking shadow, how do you keep up?

- Cold Mountain Poems, 1, pg. 39

* * *

I can't stand these bird-songs

Now I'll go rest in my straw shack.

The cherry flowers out scarlet

The willow shoots up feathery.

Morning sun drives over blue peaks

Bright clouds wash green ponds.

Who knows that I'm out of the dusty world

Climbing the southern slope of Cold Mountain?

- Cold Mountain Poems, 13, pg. 51

* * *

Some critic tried to put me down -

\\"Your poems lack the Basic Truth of Tao\\"

And I recall the old-timers

Who were poor and didn't care.

I have to laugh at him,

He misses the point entirely,

Men like that

Ought to stick to making money.

- Cold Mountain Poems, 20, pg. 58

* * *

When men see Han-shan

They all say he's crazy

And not much to look at

Dressed in rags and hides.

They don't get what I say

& I don't talk their language.

All I can say to those I meet:

\\"Try and make it to Cold Mountain.\\"

- Cold Mountain Poems, 24, pg. 62

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Gary Snyder's first book holds a significant place in his literary career. The fiftieth anniversary edition of this remarkable work is a testament to its enduring value.

It includes his translation of some of Cold Mountain's classic poetry, which had a profound influence on Snyder, as is evident in his first book. Snyder's unique and personal voice is already present in this early work.

Even from the beginning, he had a distinct way of expressing himself through poetry. Over time, that voice has evolved and become even stronger.

This first book, however, remains an important milestone in the life of this important American poet. It showcases his early talent and sets the stage for his future literary achievements.

It is a must-read for anyone interested in Snyder's work or in the history of American poetry. The fiftieth anniversary edition offers a new opportunity to discover and appreciate the power and beauty of Snyder's first book.

Gary Snyder's Cold Mountain poems, which are his translations of the T'ang era mountain Chan poet Han-shan's poems, have now firmly entered my personal canon of classic works.

These poems seem to have a magical charm that calls out to the deepest recesses of my being, compelling me to engage in repeated readings.

The beauty and simplicity of the language used in these translations are truly captivating. Each word seems to be carefully chosen to convey the essence of Han-shan's original poems.

The imagery presented in the poems is vivid and powerful, transporting the reader to the cold and secluded mountains where Han-shan lived and wrote.

Gary Snyder's interpretations add a new layer of depth and understanding to these ancient works, making them accessible and relevant to a modern audience.

Overall, these Cold Mountain poems have become an important part of my literary collection, and I continue to be inspired by their wisdom and beauty with each reading.

I have owned this book for some time now. Just recently, I picked it up again because I have been engrossed in reading the poems of Cold Mountain (Han-Shan) and was eager to explore other translations. Gary Snyder has translated only 24 of them, yet that was sufficient for Han-Shan to gain popularity in the U.S.

Gary Snyder enrolled at U.C. Berkeley back in 1953. One of his professors, Chen Shih-hsiang, encouraged him to translate the poems as he felt Snyder might have an affinity with them. And indeed he did.

I read the Riprap poems in his book, but they didn't appeal to me. I have always found beat poetry to be rather obscure. However, since discovering that he has written a Pulitzer Prize-winning book, "Turtle Island," I feel compelled to read it and see how I respond afterwards.

Here is Gary Snyder's translation of one of Cold Mountain's poems: Men ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain: there's no through trail. In summer, ice doesn't melt. The rising sun blurs in swirling fog. How did I make it? My heart's not the same as yours. If your heart was like mine, You'd get it and be right here.

Now here is Red Pine's rendition: People ask the way to Cold Mountain, but roads don't reach Cold Mountain. In Summer the ice doesn't melt, and the morning fog is too dense. How did someone like me arrive? Our minds are not the same. If they were you would be here.

And here is Wandering Poet's translation: People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Roads do not go through. Summer arrives yet the ice has not melted. Though the sun is out it's foggy and dim. How did I arrive here? My mind and yours are not the same. When our minds are one, You will be here too.

Seaton's translation goes like this: People ask about the Cold Mountain way: plain roads don't get through to Cold Mountain. Middle of the summer, and the ice still hasn't melted. Sunrise and the mist would blind a hidden dragon. So, how could a man like me get here? My heart is not the same as yours, dear sir... If your heart were like mine, you'd be here already.

And finally, here is Bruce Watson's translation of the same poem, which is my favorite: People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through. Even in summer the ice doesn't melt; Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding. How can you hope to get there by aping me? Your heart and mine are not alike. If your heart were the same as mine, Then you could journey to the very center!

Here is what I call the "bare bones" of this poem, a direct translation of the Chinese: I love mountain. Not people know. White cloud middle. Always peace.

As for the other poems in this book that were not Cold Mountain's, they are of the beat genre and can be hard to understand. But sometimes, upon closer inspection, they do make sense. Here's one such poem: In a quiet dusty corner on the north porch, Some farmers eating lunch on the steps. Up high behind a beam: a small carved wood panel Of leaves, twisting tree trunk, Ivy, and a sleek fine-haired Doe, a six-point Buck in front, Head crooked back, watching her. The great tile roof sweeps up & floats a grey shale Mountain over the town.

Note: Dates different books were written: Gary Snyder, 1958; Burton Watson 1962; Red Pine 1983; Wandering Poet, 2007; Seaton 2011.

*School Read

Gary, in "The Dharma Bums", Jack really treated you unfairly. Your character, along with everyone else in that book, was just unbearable. But then again, maybe it wasn't specifically targeted at you. Perhaps Jack simply despised all of you, including himself.

Nevertheless, I have to say that I truly, truly adored your poetry. Even though I had no personal connection to any of its subjects, apart from a slight affinity for nature (and it was a very tentative one, mostly exercised from a distance), this collection of poetry really struck a chord with me.

I was completely captivated by its style. It was just wonderful. Kudos to you! :)

I'm extremely fond of this collection of sparse, evocative, and elegant verse titled "Riprap". It holds a special place as it's the very first book ever published by the now-renowned author Gary Snyder. The poems within seem to possess a remarkable unselfconscious quality, as if they were penned simply for the pure joy of it, rather than by a self-proclaimed "poet".

In general, I have a deep appreciation for the minimalistic and contemplative style of these poems. Many of them are set in the natural landscapes of the American West, as well as in Japan and even on a tanker ship. This diverse range of settings adds a unique charm and depth to the collection.

I also thoroughly relished the second part of the book, which is "Cold Mountain Poems". It consists of a selection of ancient Chinese verse by the enigmatic figure known as "Cold Mountain" (or Hanshan). Snyder's translation of these poems, done long ago, is truly masterful. They are spare and mysterious, inviting the reader to reflect on the solitary life of the hermit and profound spiritual truths. It's evident that these poems may have served as a significant inspiration for Snyder's own work.

Overall, this is a great little book for anyone looking to explore and get into Gary Snyder's remarkable body of work. It offers a captivating journey through different cultures, landscapes, and states of mind.

I'm not the most suitable person to be reviewing poetry since I don't read a great deal of it. However, as an ordinary individual simply reading these poems, I derived pleasure from the nature-related aspects of this collection.

Particularly in the Riprap section, the descriptions of nature were vivid and engaging. It was as if I could picture the scenes in my mind's eye.

I also highly appreciated the translation of the Cold Mountain poem section. The translator did a remarkable job of capturing the essence and beauty of the original poems.

I firmly believe that more nature enthusiasts would find great value and enjoyment in this collection. It offers a unique perspective on nature and allows readers to connect with the natural world on a deeper level.

Overall, despite my limited experience with poetry, I found this collection to be a worthwhile read.

It is truly amazing that this is only Snyder's first book of poetry.

Riprap contains some breathtakingly beautiful poems, while there are also one or two average ones. 'Water' is probably my favorite.

The Cold Mountain Poems are wonderful translations of the poetry of the ancient, eccentric, mad-laughing, mountain hermit Han Shan, and this section is even better than Riprap.

What blows me away the most is how evocative these poems can be. Snyder's translations transport you right to the scenes of inspiration that Han Shan so skillfully distilled into poetry.

Structurally, the'minimal surface texture' fabric of these poems is extremely effective if the reader is ready and willing to take the plunge. Han Shan/Snyder just set up the springboard.

There are many treasures that lurk within these poems with their "complexities hidden at the bottom of the pool".

All in all, this is a highly recommended collection of poems from the Thoreau of our times - Gary Snyder. His works offer a unique perspective and a rich exploration of the human spirit and the natural world. Whether you are a poetry enthusiast or just looking for some beautiful and thought-provoking words, this collection is definitely worth checking out.