I would say Gary Snyder, who is from my part of the world as a

Hear the words of the poet Robert Hass, who, in honoring the lineage of those who spoke for the earth, declared: “I would say Gary Snyder, who is from my part of the world as a poet and environmental thinker, will be read just as Henry Thoreau as John Muir will continue to be read.” These words are not mere praise of a fellow writer, but a vision of continuity, of the unbroken chain of prophets who give voice to the forests, the rivers, and the mountains. In them, Hass reminds us that every age has its witnesses—those who listen to the earth and speak truth to a restless humanity.

He names first Gary Snyder, poet of the wild and contemplative wanderer, who walked the path of Zen and the path of wilderness, and who sang of the earth not as resource but as sacred kin. To Hass, Snyder belongs among the immortals, his words destined to endure as the voice of a generation that began to awaken to the frailty of the planet. In placing Snyder beside Henry Thoreau and John Muir, Hass inscribes him into the scripture of nature’s defenders, ensuring that his poetry will echo long after his time, teaching future generations how to see and how to honor the earth.

Consider Henry Thoreau, who withdrew to Walden Pond and, with pen and solitude, taught mankind that simplicity and attention are paths to wisdom. He was not only a naturalist but a rebel, reminding his nation that the individual conscience must sometimes rise against the law when the law is unjust. His witness was both ecological and moral: to see nature clearly and to resist oppression bravely.

Then recall John Muir, the prophet of the Sierras, whose voice carried like thunder into the halls of power, pleading for the preservation of Yosemite and the wilderness. He was no mere wanderer, but a warrior in defense of mountains and valleys, who persuaded a president to stand with him in protecting lands for generations unborn. His legacy is the wilderness preserved, not for profit but for wonder.

And now Hass says that Snyder, too, will join this chorus. His poems, rooted in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, in the mountains of Asia, and in the deep traditions of indigenous wisdom, remind humanity that the earth is not separate from us, but we are woven into its very fabric. He speaks not with the voice of conquest but with the voice of kinship, calling us to humility, to reverence, and to balance. For this reason, Hass declares, Snyder will be read not as a fleeting poet, but as an enduring teacher, one whose words will guide souls centuries hence.

The origin of Hass’s declaration lies in his recognition of a canon of environmental voices, a lineage that binds past to present. Thoreau lit the flame of simplicity, Muir carried the torch of preservation, and Snyder, in the modern age, expanded the vision to include global awareness and spiritual depth. Hass’s words are an acknowledgment that literature and thought are not isolated, but threads in a great tapestry of human response to the earth’s call.

The lesson, then, is clear: honor those who give voice to the voiceless earth, and listen to the wisdom they leave behind. Read Thoreau, read Muir, read Snyder, not as relics but as guides. Let their words shape how you live, how you consume, how you protect, and how you stand against the forces that would desecrate what is sacred. For every age must have its poets and prophets of the land, and every generation must choose whether to heed them or to ignore their warnings.

So let Hass’s words be a charge to you: seek out the wisdom of those who speak for nature. Do not let their voices grow faint with time. Read them, remember them, and live in harmony with their vision. For the earth is eternal, but the stewardship of man is fragile, and without the voices of poets and prophets, we are deaf to its cries. Let us, then, join the chorus of Thoreau, Muir, and Snyder, and carry their song forward into the future.