Rouke Broersma (1940 Amsterdam). Woont sinds 1975 in Bunne. Onderwijs-loopbaan (schoolmeester, leraar, pabo-docent) van 1960-2001. Publiceerde in de jaren zeventig: verhalen, gedichten (De Hoge Veluwe en andere toponiemen), een novelle en een roman (De put). In de jaren tachtig en negentig: onderwijspublicaties.

De afgelopen tien jaar:
1. Drèentse Schrieverij, een Drentse literatuurgeschiedenis en de bloemlezing Scheupers van de taol.
2. Essays en gedichten, onder andere in het tijdschrift Roet.
3. Publicaties over het Freinet-onderwijs en Freinet, waaronder Tony de Wees (de vertaling van een kinderboekje van Freinet, met autobiografische trekjes) en Célestin Freinet, een pedagoog voor onze tijd (vertaling van de Freinet-biografie van Michel Barré).

CORMORANTS OF MALIN HEAD

for Mary Nelis


A t Malin Head comes Ireland to an end.
Just one last rock, a crop, an Adam's apple,
splitted larynx with shivering vocal cords,
locally known as Devil's Bridge,
through which with lots of noise, frotting and shocking
the in- and exhaling of the Atlantic Ocean.

Onely a wee land tongue in the lee
offers eight cormorants a quay, where they,
standing upright, in a decent line, the perfect cliché
of queuing clerks by the bus stop,
are waiting for their turn, their dive in the depth,
their prey, their catch,

and offers them a short runway
for the return flight, after which they
join in again at the back, where they,
standing upright, in a decent line, the perfect cliché
of queuing clerks by the bus stop,
are waiting for their turn, their dive in the depth,
their prey, their catch ....

Oh, what would, seeing this, Mary say,
- you know Mary, of course you know Mary,
Mary of Billy Nelis from the Bogside in Derry -
Mary who last night, when we left,
once again teached her lesson, once again
recited her litany, unfolding
eight centuries in one breath:

they came to capture our country,
they came to rob our properties,
they came to break the Brehan-law,
they came to cut our trees
for Brittania rule the waves,
they sew gras in our patatoe fields
for their meat and wool,
leaving us stones for bread
they built their city on our high grounds,
expelling us to bog and fen,
they came to tie our tongue,
forcing us to eat their words,
they teached us their history.

Oh, what would, seeing this, Mary say?
Defenitely this: 'Jesus Christ, Billy,
look what they've done,
even our birds are briticized.'


Rouke Broersma