Hannie Rouweler (Netherlands)

 
 Hannie Rouweler (Netherlands)
 
Hannie Rouweler (Netherlands, 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).
Poems have been translated in about 30 languages. She attended five years evening classes in painting and art history, art academy (Belgium). Hannie writes about a variety of diverse topics. ‘Poetry is on the street, for the taking’, is an adage for her. She mixes observations from reality with imagination and gives a pointe to her feelings and findings. Unrestrained imagination plays a major part in her works. She published a few stories (short thrillers); is editor of various poetry collections. Since 2008 she is publisher Demer Press.
 
 
Day schedule of a sunrise
 
At least ten times turned over, a handful
pills for jaw pain, coffee, banana and then
out of bed! The cats happy with the early
morning food and rabbits too, in the run on
the terrace, it was still quite black outside
 
in here too before my eyes. To begin
the early day with deferred jobs from a bucket
and rod wringer, soap for cork floor room, hall,
everything thrown in the air or pushed aside while
the first streaks of light appeared in the distance.
 
Now I’m relaxing in the modest light
of a reading lamp. I should be satisfied,
that is the slowest starting today.
But there’s still time. There is plenty of time.
 
 
 
Dagindeling van een zonsopgang
 
Zeker tien keer omgedraaid, een handvol
pillen tegen kaakpijn, koffie, banaan erbij
en toen uit bed! De katten blij met het vroege
ochtendvoer en konijnen ook, in de ren op
het terras, het was nog behoorlijk zwart buiten
 
hier binnen ook voor mijn ogen. De vroege dag
beginnen met uitgestelde klussen van een emmer
en stang wringer, zeep voor kurken vloer kamer, hal,
alles in de lucht gegooid of aan de kant geschoven
terwijl de eerste lichtstrepen in de verte verschenen.
 
Nu zit ik uit te puffen bij het bescheiden licht
van een leeslamp. Ik zou tevreden moeten zijn,
dat komt vandaag het traagst op gang.
Maar er is nog tijd. Er is nog tijd genoeg.
 
 
 
MY AUNTS
(not Marilyn Monroe)
 
All my aunts were fat.
This created a bond with my mother
and among themselves.
Not one was skinny.
 
I remember that the living room
was filled with noises and laughter
when they paid a visit to our home.
They took big bites in all sorts of cakes.
 
Never my aunts showed any jealousy,
but they watched each other closely
who had the first vacuum cleaner
and the first washing machine.
 
With sentiment I think back of them,
as I see old films and commercials
of the ideal, modern house wives
from America. In the fifties.
 

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