Poem

Hanny Michaelis

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Original language

Sleepless in the cavern

Sleepless in the cavern
of the night.

All roads to you
rolled up into a black
inextricable tangle.

Needle-sharp pain
spinning round in the groove
of a memory.

And outside the soft
unintelligible murmuring of
the spring rain.

© Translation: 2009, Judith Wilkinson
Publisher: Earlier version published on www.languageandculture.net, , 2005

Slapeloos in het hol

Slapeloos in het hol
van de nacht.

Alle wegen naar jou
opgerold tot een zwart,
niet te ontwarren kluwen.

Naaldfijne pijn
ronddraaiend in de groef
van een herinnering.

En buiten het zachte
onverstaanbare geprevel van
de voorjaarsregen.

© 1996, Hanny Michaelis
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
Publisher: Uitgeverij G.A Van Oorschot, Amsterdam

Hanny Michaelis

Hanny Michaelis

(The Netherlands, 1922 - 2007)

Hanny Michaelis was born in 1922 in Amsterdam, and her small but distinctive oeuvre has been awarded numerous literary prizes. Michaelis established a reputation as a poet of contained lyricism, and her work is characteristically tempered by an almost wry awareness of limitation. While her poems are often marked by an epigrammatic conciseness and an element of detached and analytical reflection...

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Poems

Poems of Hanny Michaelis

This evening I learnt

Hanny Michaelis

A morning

Hanny Michaelis

Slowly but surely

Hanny Michaelis

Love rolled away

Hanny Michaelis

Tantalising uncertainty,

Hanny Michaelis

What it would have been like

Hanny Michaelis

Sometimes like gems

Hanny Michaelis

Stretched out on your back

Hanny Michaelis

In an unguarded moment

Hanny Michaelis

Years later

Hanny Michaelis

Close

Sleepless in the cavern

Sleepless in the cavern
of the night.

All roads to you
rolled up into a black
inextricable tangle.

Needle-sharp pain
spinning round in the groove
of a memory.

And outside the soft
unintelligible murmuring of
the spring rain.

© 2009, Judith Wilkinson
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
Publisher: 2005, Earlier version published on www.languageandculture.net, Amsterdam

Sleepless in the cavern

Sleepless in the cavern
of the night.

All roads to you
rolled up into a black
inextricable tangle.

Needle-sharp pain
spinning round in the groove
of a memory.

And outside the soft
unintelligible murmuring of
the spring rain.

© 2009, Judith Wilkinson
Publisher: 2005, Earlier version published on www.languageandculture.net,

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