Hannie Rouweler ( Netherland)
Hannie Rouweler (Goor, 13 June 1951), poet and translator, has been living in Leusden, The Netherlands, since the end of 2012. Her sources of inspiration are nature, love, loss, childhood memories and travel. In 1988 she debuted with Raindrops on the water. Since then about 40 poetry volumes have been published, including translations in foreign languages (Polish, Romanian, Spanish, French, Norwegian, English). She attended five years evening classes in painting and art history, art academy (Belgium). She published a few stories (short thrillers); is a compiler of various poetry collections. She is a member of the Flemish Association of Poets and Writers (VVL, Antwerp).
I thought …
I couldn’t sleep. I started counting the fish
in the aquarium. My sleeping cats and when I had done that
I walked out. The rabbits, the stars in a clear sky and
looked at glass. I counted the dark windows across the street and I turned around,
the windows of the building where I live. I had already reached a high number
when I walked back inside again. I thought of my daughter. Suddenly I had ten
and they all needed to be dressed. A bag of bread for school with
pack of orange juice. They all needed shoes on and I put them in a row
in the living room. Then I thought of you. You have so many words in your suitcase
that you have to count them before you get on the plane with all those words on board.
You will get surcharges at the airport for all those bags and suitcases with words,
that you don’t forget your visa. Take that white tent with you from that distant country where
you come from. The white one and not the other colours because I know what a black tent
means and it stays hidden in the attic. Also bring a carton of milk, yogurt and crates
full of jam jars with you. In my kitchen cabinets I keep stocks for long winters
and nightly hours that I can’t sleep and look in the fridge what is there.
I think of you with your poems, the long tones of the language of your parents, ancestors,
to whom I will say hello if you stand before me. In a city in this country in which traces can still be found of old city walls, near the water, the river that feeds us and leads us everywhere.