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 35 languages. She followed several commercial and language trainings (Arnhem, Amsterdam, Hasselt BE) and 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 received several awards from the Netherlands and foreign countries. She is a member of the Advisory Board of the yearly Kritya festival, India. She published a few stories (e.g. short thrillers); is editor of various poetry collections.




nothing but a bucket of water

which you empty over a terrace.

Everything goes its own way and runs to an edge

where it stays for a while.

I fall short immensely and the words

that should have been different;


acceptance of fate that compels resignation

and leaves me in countless defenseless places.

I don't fight anymore, I let it be,

it feels like an old sore with stitches breaking open

on this winter day where sunlight casts bright shadows

brighter than before

on windows, the cold glass of untouchable shapes.



2-     Me and my shadow

Me and my shadow, we're best friends

whatever you can think of,

we always find each other

at the craziest times of the day, night,

not that we always love each other as much as couples in love forever

after years and years still taste the flame, the torch of unbreakability

no, not at all,

it's more like: I know where you're going

you don't have to explain anything to me

there is no need for you to send me signals of your intentions beforehand

I don't need your permission.

My shadow and I flow into each other

get along well in fierce contradictions

black white or white black

and yet, we still think of each other: we keep it convenient

in good times and bad times,

you get used to what always walks with you unseen, gets lost.




a rose for the sun that shines through bare branches

a rose for two birds in the tree

a rose for the chrysanthemums that are in bloom

a rose for all the clouds in the sky


a rose for the love that it is lasting

a rose for perseverance in all struggles

a rose for the warmth you give me

a rose for all the thoughts I share with you


a rose for luck in misfortune and bad luck

a rose for the bed that remains on the floor

a rose for the view I have together with you

a rose for times that slide along a ruler.

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