HUBERT VAN HERREWEGHEN (3)

I have begged God to spare me the trial of poetry. It's a terrible burden, worse than I let on.




When I now compare my poems, I notice that every poem is different for me. It's shorter, it's longer, it goes like this or like that. It's very simple: I have thousands of notes and I get them, down to the one that wrote itself all by itself. Then it's work. It is a mine, a silver mine; there are ores, but workers and installations are needed to mine the silver, to extract the poetry.




I, really, have no secrets. Of course, one poem is not the same as the other. There are many ways; I can't control it. I'm a loser and I think most poets feel that way. Actually, it's all about dabbling, fussing and trying to make something of it.




Also see:

Frozen poets - Sculptures, graves and other traces of poets

Dutch poetry in Indonesian language, translated by Siti Wahyuningsih and Albert Hagenaars

Critical reviews on modern Dutch poetry



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