Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Gary Snyder’s "Kisiabaton" is a brief yet profound meditation on nature, history, and the act of bearing witness. The poem centers around a journey, a search for a specific tree—the kisiabaton, or Taiwan hinoki, a rare red cypress sacred to the indigenous people of Taiwan. Snyder’s characteristic blend of natural imagery, cultural reverence, and quiet observation shapes this poem into a reflection on place, impermanence, and the human connection to the more-than-human world.

The poem opens with an image of a "beat-up Datsun idling in the road," grounding the scene in a specific and unpretentious reality. The presence of an old car suggests a long journey, possibly one that has taken its toll on both vehicle and traveler. This small, worn machine contrasts sharply with the vastness of the landscape—"shreds of fog / almost-vertical hillsides drop away / huge stumps fading into mist." The interplay between the human-made and the natural world is immediately evident. The fog, the sheer hills, and the ghostly remnants of felled trees create an atmosphere of mystery, loss, and reverence. Snyder situates the reader in a world where human presence is small against the backdrop of nature’s vast scale and slow history.

The image of "huge stumps fading into mist" evokes deforestation, the aftermath of logging, and the wounds left behind in the land. These stumps are not merely remnants; they are silent witnesses to past destruction, and their fading into the mist suggests both an erasure and a haunting presence. This motif of disappearance permeates the poem, as Snyder hints at the fragility of nature and the urgent need to acknowledge what remains before it, too, vanishes.

The gentle rain—"soft warm rain"—shifts the tone from one of loss to one of renewal. The phrase serves as a pause, a moment of recognition that despite past destruction, life persists. Rain, a life-giving force, contrasts with the earlier image of felled trees and speaks to the resilience of the land.

The second half of the poem moves toward its central subject: "Snaggy, forked and spreading tops, a temperate cloud-forest tree / Chamaecyparis formosiana—Taiwan hinoki, hung-kuai red cypress." Snyder’s listing of names—scientific, vernacular, and indigenous—highlights the multiple ways this tree is known and classified. The accumulation of these names serves as a bridge between different ways of knowing: scientific taxonomy (Chamaecyparis formosiana), regional identification (Taiwan hinoki), and indigenous naming (hung-kuai red cypress). By including all three, Snyder acknowledges that knowledge of a place or a species is not singular but layered, influenced by cultural, linguistic, and historical perspectives.

The name kisiabaton—the indigenous term for the tree—is given special significance in the final lines: "That the tribal people call kisiabaton / this rare old tree / is what we came to see." The shift in tone is reverential. The tree is not merely an object of curiosity but a living presence worthy of pilgrimage. Its rarity makes it valuable, not in the sense of economic worth, but as a sacred and vanishing entity that demands recognition.

The closing phrase—"this rare old tree / is what we came to see."—distills the poem’s essence. The journey, the rain, the worn-out car, the disappearing stumps, the shifting fog—all these elements build to a moment of simple yet profound witnessing. Snyder does not elaborate on the tree’s significance beyond naming it and noting its rarity. Instead, he allows the weight of presence to speak for itself.

At its core, "Kisiabaton" is about bearing witness—to the landscape, to history, to the quiet endurance of life that remains despite human intrusion. It is a poem of reverence, acknowledging the deep ecological and cultural connections embedded in a single tree. Snyder’s stripped-down, unembellished language mirrors the humility of the journey. The poem does not tell us how to feel but rather asks us to be present, to see clearly, to acknowledge what is before us.

The act of seeing in this poem is layered: it is not just about physical sight but about recognition—of history, of loss, of survival, of the ways different cultures understand and name the world. The rare tree stands as a symbol of endurance, a living remnant of a world that is disappearing but still exists if we take the time to look. Snyder’s poem, then, becomes an elegy and an offering—both a lament for what has been lost and a celebration of what still stands.

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