W.J. van der Molen no email address Dutch no personal website Netherlands W. (Willem) J. van der Molen made a name for himself as a poet in the nineteen fifties and sixties. Following a quiet period he reappeared in the eighties, fully converted to haiku. In a period during which most haiku in the west imitated Japanese classical haiku, Van der Molen assimililated the spirit and characteristics of haiku with his own personal poetics. Several volumes of his haiku, with titles like 'Geeft 't leven terug?' (Does life give back?) and 'Op een grasstengel klimmen' (To climb a blade of grass) demonstrated his innovative approach. For a time he was editor of 'Vuursteen' (Flint), the quarterly publication of the Haiku Circle Netherlands and the Haiku Centre Flanders, where his ideas were often at odds with those of the other editors. In 1990 he started his own journal 'Kortheidshalve' (For brevity's sake), which was dedicated to short verse in general, but with haiku at its core. Both in essays and in poetry, the journal spread Van der Molen's haiku vision, also giving ample room to other haiku poets for whom, as was the case with Van der Molen himself, Japanese haiku was certainly a major inspiration - but not something to be simply mimicked. It wasn't until the late 90's, when the notion of world haiku was gaining momentum, that Van der Molen, because of his broad vision, started receiving the recognition as a pioneer of world haiku that was owed him. Sadly, he died in March 2002 at the age of 78. The World Haiku Association is proud to keep his memory alive by adding this page to its site, thus giving him some of the international exposure he deserves.

Elke keer als ik probeer te lachen laat ik ook mijn tanden zien.	Each time I try to smile I also show my teeth.
Aarzelend tussen twee gouden scarabeeën kiest mij het masker.	Hesitating between two golden scarabs it's me the mask chooses.
De betekenis van woorden veranderen door ze te zeggen.	To change the meaning of words by saying them.
Een klein streepje zon tussen de gordijnen door: stof op mahonie.	A small line of sun between the curtains: dust on mahogany
Wij blijven praten over de schaduwen heen in elk van ons.	We keep on talking across the shadows in each of us.
Mijn herinnering! Ik teken een wankel paard en denk aan liefde.	My memory! I draw a shaky horse and think of love.
als je heel stil ligt en je slaapt bijna ben je mijn tedere afgrond	when you lie very still and are almost asleep you are my tender abyss
alleen de roest op een ziel - de vochtplekken te hebben geleefd	only the rust on a soul - the damp spots of having lived
Een zilte zomer; al de smaken van de zee in de niçoise.	A salty summer; every taste of the sea in the niçoise.
een deur die toegang geeft tot elkaar	a door giving access to each other