******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******: SATIS SHROFF

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******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******: SATIS SHROFF: SATIS SHROFF THE DANCE OF THE BIRCH TREES The naked white birch trees Stand close to each other, Waiting for the music ...

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A DREAM LED TO ANOTHER (SATIS SHROFF)

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Bhaktapur: art by satisshroff A DREAM  LED TO ANOTHER (Satis Shroff) I was around twenty years old, My head full of dreams. I left the Himalayan foothills to win a dream: A dream to go to Europe, visit places I’d read about. The Bastille from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, Where I spent time recalling the French Revolution. My friend’s Parisienne sister shook her head and said: ‘Monsieur Satish, there are others ways of spending an afternoon in Paris.’ The smell of sea food at a French harbour, Such as the peasants of Normandy built. La Rochelle and the German bunkers in the Ile d’ Oleron. I peered at sea fogs from the mighty Atlantic, Watched the ‘last oozing, hours by hours, From a cider-press’ in the Vosges, as John Keats aptly put it. * * * In Blenhelm’s little tavern I saw murals of its famous son: Winston Leonhard Spencer Churchill. I stood in front of Churchill’s grave; Above his remains lay his mother. The words of James Shirley came to my mind: ‘Death lays his...
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Zeitgeistlyrik: THE TIBETAN PRAYER WHEEL (Satis Shroff)

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THE TIBETAN PRAYER WHEEL (Satis Shroff) (Subtitle: O, cry with me) Adieu winter, The signs of growth are here, Between sunshine and rain. There’s a subtle greening everywhere. People work line bees, Cutting and pruning weeds Using their ancient hoes To plough the terraces The joy that plants have survived Beneath the deadwood. There’s optimism in the air And with it hope, When crocuses rear their heads. Lovely lupins, delphiniums and daffodils, In the meadows of the Himalayas. People are bathing in the tributaries of holy rivers, Chanting vedic hymns. Those who have lost their mothers, Remember them through rites, Followed by a bath in the river Matatirtha. The sound of thundering hoofs in Tudikhel, In the heart of Catmandu. Snorting and foaming horses, And cheering Nepalese. Spectators who watch the great chariots Of Bhairawa and Bhadrakali. The joy of the fresh air, In the tranquility of the blue Mahabharat hills...
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LITTENWEILER LITERATURE: SATIS SHROFF

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https://www.instagram.com/satisshroff/ WOOD-SHOOTING ON THE MAIER HILL, KAPPEL (Satis Shroff) Subtitle: Scheibenschlagen Schiebe, schieba, schiebo Where should the slice of wood go? The slice should go to Karin-Claudia! If it doesn’t fly, Then it’s not true. The Hill Spirits of Schauinsland staged the traditional slice-of-wood shooting on top of the Maier Hill in Kappel, below the place where the ores were washed previously. This big fire was to be seen from as far as the Big Valley street so that visitors could find their way to the hill. Wood-shooting or as we Germans call it ‘Scheibenschlagen’ is an old pagan ritual to banish winter, which was later integrated into the Christian days of fasting called ‘fasnet.’ The date of this tradition goes back to the old calendar of fasting in which the people indulged in, even on Sundays, which is normally regarded as ‘the day of resting’ or Ruhetag. In Freiburg and the surrounding areas, the wood-shooting is carried ou...
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