THE JAPANESE-STYLE haiku poems of Herman Van Rompuy are set to reach new readers with the imminent publication of an anthology of three-line verse by the president of the European Council.
In an effort to widen the audience for verse first published in Dutch on Mr Van Rompuy’s personal website, the haiku are being translated by a Belgian poetry organisation into English, German and French. In a nod to Europe’s heritage and minority language enthusiasts, they will also be published in Latin.
He had been prime minister for Belgium for less than a year when he was chosen last November to lead the assembly of EU leaders. His penchant for writing haiku stood out as an unusual hobby, but one suited to man with an agenda dominated by multiple meetings and frequent travel.
In haiku – written over three lines with only 17 syllables – the poet strives to capture in few words the essence of a fleeting observation or feeling. For Mr Van Rompuy, they represent the “unattainable ideal of simplicity” and mark an “aversion to the sophisticated and overcompetitive world”.
Mr Van Rompuy’s spokesman says “dozens” of his poems will appear in the anthology, which is being compiled by the Ghent poetry centre. “As a Haiku poet Herman Van Rompuy is as good or even excels the other Haiku poets in Flanders and in the Netherlands,” says Willy Tibergien, director of the centre in Ghent.
The 128-page book will feature each poem in five languages. Mr Tibergien says the centre is printing 2,500 copies of the anthology, which will be sold for €16.95 in Belgian and Dutch bookshops.
The proceeds will go to Mr Van Rompuy, translators and the Ghent centre, which publishes about a dozen books of mainly Flemish poetry per year.
Mr Van Rompuy has tackled topics as universal as the seasons and time itself – and as personal as his baldness.
The poem titled Septemberreads: "The harvest is in and the trees are already thinning. Evening nears." Jordanruns as follows: "On Good Friday floating on the Dead Sea, life nearby."
His reflection on baldness smacks of crestfallen bemusement at the ravages of age: “Hair blows in the wind. After years there is still wind. Sadly no more hair.”