Courtesy: Epitacio Tongohan to PENTASI B World Friendship Poetry, featurung Satis Shroff
Poem in Serbian
Сатис Шроф (Satis Shroff, Nemačka)
ХАЈДЕГЕРОВА ТРИЛОГИЈА: Тишина постојања Платон је једном рекао:
Сатис Шроф (Satis Shroff, Nemačka)
ХАЈДЕГЕРОВА ТРИЛОГИЈА: Тишина постојања Платон је једном рекао:
Megala panta episphale, (Μεγάλα πάντα επισφαλή,) несигуран осуђен на пропаст, угрожен. То је био Платонов филозофски одговор тиранину Сиракузу, који је био осуђен на пропаст. Али, зашто сам пратио Платонове речи, и узносим их до херојског Sturm und Drang? Истина је, саосећао сам са унутрашњом истином Националног социјализма, кратко време. Та кратка епизода ме је...
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Epitacio TongohantoPENTASI B World Friendship Poetry
Chilly Autumn arrives soon enough,
The summer flowers,
Those dear friends have gone.
Asters and chrysanthemums still greet us.
People celebrate the festival of lights,
In honour of Goddess Lakshmi.
Even the common crow is worshipped this day.
For the crow is the messenger of Death,
To the Hindus: Yamadoot.
Another day the dog is garlanded and revered,
For he is Bhairab’s steed.
The third day of Tihar belongs to the cow,
The reincarnation of Lakshmi.
If you beat a cow you might be punished
With a life in poverty.
The fruits are ripe now,
Waiting to be harvested.
The sun’s rays become mellow.
The leaves turn golden, russet, brown.
The paths are strewn with dead leaves.
We reflect about our own lives.
The dying leaves,
A metaphor of your short existence,
On this beautiful earth.
With splendor of Summer gone,
We become thoughtful and melancholic.
What has fate in store for us?
In this epoch of Kali Yuga,
Wealth has become the personification
Of success and career.
If the Gurkha survives he comes home,
With presents for his family.
Others remain cremated in foreign lands.
Nothing endures in the cycle of life.
We come, grow up, live our lives
And go.
Thereby making place for others.
Akin to the sunflower that ripens,
Provides shade and seeds,
Follows the whims of the sun,
And wilts.
Even green leaves die.
The wheel of life waits for no one,
O, cry with me.
FROM GERMANY
LET US WELCOME
with big BIG warm hugs...
with big BIG warm hugs...
OUR PENTASI B
World Featured Poet 2016
World Featured Poet 2016
Our dear friend
Our fellow poet
Our brother
SATIS SHROFF
Our fellow poet
Our brother
SATIS SHROFF
 |
| Books by Satis Shroff on www.lulu.com/spotlight/satisle and Nelles Guides(Münich) |
 |
| Poetry Reading in Freiburg, Germany |
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✡★¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ + ◌ ∞ α
ღ ॐ ☥☼
☪☸✡★¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ + ◌ ∞ α
ABOUT THE AUTHOR SATIS SHROFF
Satis Shroff is a lecturer, poet, singer (mgv-kappel) and author based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) who also writes on ecological, ethno-medical, culture-ethnological themes. He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Sciences in Freiburg (Germany) and Creative Writing in Freiburg and Manchester (UK). He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet.
Since literature is one of the most important means of cross-cultural learning, Satis is dedicated to promoting and creating awareness for Creative Writing and trans-cultural togetherness in his writings, and in preserving an attitude of Miteinander in this world. He lectures in Basle (Switzerland) and in Germany at the Akademie für medizinische Berufe (University Klinikum Freiburg) and the VHS-Freiburg. Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize and also the Kulturpreis of Green City Freiburg for his social engagement for the refugees and asylum seekers. He was nominated for German Engagement Prize 2011 Berlin by Green City Freiburg. He is the Director of Writers Capital International Foundation (Germany).
Satis Shroff has written two language books on the Nepali language in German for DSE (Deutsche Stiftung für Entwicklungsdienst) & Horlemannverlag. He is a contributing author on Boloji.com. He has written feature articles in the Munich-based Nelles Verlag’s ‘Nepal’ on the Himalayan Kingdom’s Gurkhas, sacred mountains and Nepalese symbols, and on Hinduism in ‘Nepal: Myths & Realities (Book Faith India) and his poem ‘Mental Molotovs’ was published in epd-Entwicklungsdienst (Frankfurt). Much of his profound writings are available in the internet.
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SATIS SHROFF's POEM
.
SUMMER
It’s Summer where moist southern winds prevail.
Your body, mind and spirit,
Are one with Nature.
The flowers bloom and cherries get ripe,
‘Kaphal pakyo, kaphal pakyo,’
Sings a a bird.
The day lengthens
And the clouds cannot hide the Surya.
Soon great clouds bring rain.
Indra gives his blessing:
Monsoon.
A gift to many,
A curse for few.
The sun shines now
And the leaves sag.
The frogs dive in the pond,
The dragon fly hovers awhile.
There’s life and beauty in this transient world.
Summer brings enduring happiness
To one and all,
When trees blossom and bear fruit.
The paddy planting season is over
In the Vale of Catmandu.
The Newari jyapu farmers sing songs
And rejoice.
The sun fills our lives with light,
Positive thoughts prevail.
The wonderful scent of the roses,
Butterflies dancing over Himalayan orchids.
Your fingers touch and feel
The silkiness of the rose petals.
People sing in praise of the cow for eight days.
The holy cows of Catmandu wear garlands.
The prayer wheel turns unceasingly,
O cry with me.
Your body, mind and spirit,
Are one with Nature.
The flowers bloom and cherries get ripe,
‘Kaphal pakyo, kaphal pakyo,’
Sings a a bird.
The day lengthens
And the clouds cannot hide the Surya.
Soon great clouds bring rain.
Indra gives his blessing:
Monsoon.
A gift to many,
A curse for few.
The sun shines now
And the leaves sag.
The frogs dive in the pond,
The dragon fly hovers awhile.
There’s life and beauty in this transient world.
Summer brings enduring happiness
To one and all,
When trees blossom and bear fruit.
The paddy planting season is over
In the Vale of Catmandu.
The Newari jyapu farmers sing songs
And rejoice.
The sun fills our lives with light,
Positive thoughts prevail.
The wonderful scent of the roses,
Butterflies dancing over Himalayan orchids.
Your fingers touch and feel
The silkiness of the rose petals.
People sing in praise of the cow for eight days.
The holy cows of Catmandu wear garlands.
The prayer wheel turns unceasingly,
O cry with me.
.
AUTUMN
Chilly Autumn arrives soon enough,
The summer flowers,
Those dear friends have gone.
Asters and chrysanthemums still greet us.
People celebrate the festival of lights,
In honour of Goddess Lakshmi.
Even the common crow is worshipped this day.
For the crow is the messenger of Death,
To the Hindus: Yamadoot.
Another day the dog is garlanded and revered,
For he is Bhairab’s steed.
The third day of Tihar belongs to the cow,
The reincarnation of Lakshmi.
If you beat a cow you might be punished
With a life in poverty.
The fruits are ripe now,
Waiting to be harvested.
The sun’s rays become mellow.
The leaves turn golden, russet, brown.
The paths are strewn with dead leaves.
We reflect about our own lives.
The dying leaves,
A metaphor of your short existence,
On this beautiful earth.
With splendor of Summer gone,
We become thoughtful and melancholic.
What has fate in store for us?
In this epoch of Kali Yuga,
Wealth has become the personification
Of success and career.
If the Gurkha survives he comes home,
With presents for his family.
Others remain cremated in foreign lands.
Nothing endures in the cycle of life.
We come, grow up, live our lives
And go.
Thereby making place for others.
Akin to the sunflower that ripens,
Provides shade and seeds,
Follows the whims of the sun,
And wilts.
Even green leaves die.
The wheel of life waits for no one,
O, cry with me.
.
WINTER
.
The sky is sunless,
The tree branches look like emaciated humans,
Hands reaching for the sky,
In poses of suspended animation.
The nights are cold and dark,
All seems lifeless, dead, buried,
Beneath the white snow.
No bird sings.
Misty mountains veiled,
With dampness everywhere.
The cold makes the people remain indoors.
Winter means respite,
A time for solitude and contemplation.
Read books, watch DVDs, tell tales,
Time for Kaffeekranz elsewhere,
With the family or friends.
The tree branches look like emaciated humans,
Hands reaching for the sky,
In poses of suspended animation.
The nights are cold and dark,
All seems lifeless, dead, buried,
Beneath the white snow.
No bird sings.
Misty mountains veiled,
With dampness everywhere.
The cold makes the people remain indoors.
Winter means respite,
A time for solitude and contemplation.
Read books, watch DVDs, tell tales,
Time for Kaffeekranz elsewhere,
With the family or friends.
.
SPRING
Hush, life is merely asleep outside.
Come Spring and life blooms,
In the meadows, in the woods and gardens.
Worms start tilling the earth.
Even in the cold and darkness of winter,
There are faint signs of life,
In the microcosmos off the beaten path.
Prakriti is regenerating,
Despite the onslaught of the elements:
Snow, wind and rain.
Nature survives and we gather hope.
The old Tibetan wheel turns eternally,
O rejoice with me.
Come Spring and life blooms,
In the meadows, in the woods and gardens.
Worms start tilling the earth.
Even in the cold and darkness of winter,
There are faint signs of life,
In the microcosmos off the beaten path.
Prakriti is regenerating,
Despite the onslaught of the elements:
Snow, wind and rain.
Nature survives and we gather hope.
The old Tibetan wheel turns eternally,
O rejoice with me.
© 2015, satisshroff, all rights reserved
.
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☪☸✡★¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ + ◌ ∞ α
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