1. (Katsushika Hokusai, The Great Wave at Kamagawa[from A Series of Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji], Circa 1831-1833.  Woodprint. Approximately 10 by 15 inches. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Howard Mansfield Collection.)The Great Wave: Hokusai

It is because the sea is blue, 
Because Fuji is blue, because the bent blue 
Men have white faces, like the snow 
On Fuji, like the crest of the wave in the sky the color of their 
Boats. It is because the air 
Is full of writing, because the wave is still: that nothing 
Will harm these frail strangers, 
That high over Fuji in an earthcolored sky the fingers 
Will not fall; and the blue men 
Lean on the sea like snow, and the wave like a mountain leans 
Against the sky.
In the painter’s sea 
All fishermen are safe. All anger bends under his unity. 
But the innocent bystander, he merely 
‘Walks round a corner, thinking of nothing’: hidden 
Behind a screen we hear his cry. 
He stands half in and half out of the world; he is the men, 
But he cannot see below Fuji 
The shore the color of sky; he is the wave, he stretches 
His claws against strangers. He is 
Not safe, not even from himself. His world is flat. 
He fishes a sea full of serpents, he rides his boat 
Blindly from wave to wave toward Ararat. By Donald Finkel

    (Katsushika Hokusai, The Great Wave at Kamagawa[from A Series of Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji], Circa 1831-1833. Woodprint. Approximately 10 by 15 inches. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Howard Mansfield Collection.)

    The Great Wave: Hokusai
    It is because the sea is blue,
    Because Fuji is blue, because the bent blue
    Men have white faces, like the snow
    On Fuji, like the crest of the wave in the sky the color of their
    Boats. It is because the air
    Is full of writing, because the wave is still: that nothing
    Will harm these frail strangers,
    That high over Fuji in an earthcolored sky the fingers
    Will not fall; and the blue men
    Lean on the sea like snow, and the wave like a mountain leans
    Against the sky.

    In the painter’s sea
    All fishermen are safe. All anger bends under his unity.
    But the innocent bystander, he merely
    ‘Walks round a corner, thinking of nothing’: hidden
    Behind a screen we hear his cry.
    He stands half in and half out of the world; he is the men,
    But he cannot see below Fuji
    The shore the color of sky; he is the wave, he stretches
    His claws against strangers. He is
    Not safe, not even from himself. His world is flat.
    He fishes a sea full of serpents, he rides his boat
    Blindly from wave to wave toward Ararat.

    By Donald Finkel

     
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