EUROPEAN CHRONICLE (Satis Shroff)

THE ANGST OF GLOBAL WAR (Satis Shroff) Subtitle: The Sunflowers & Poppies Grow) Putin shakes hands with veterans in Moscow. Russia should never be underestimated; Power is being mobilized as in the past World Wars. Russia has not lost the war is the tenor. The bells chime in the Kremlin like mockery for those killed. There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. Modern and old weapons are on display, Generals in black cabrios take the salute. A sea of smart, disciplined soldiers carrying weapons, Swords, salutes and martial music on the Red Square. It’s all about defending the Fatherland And solidarity with the soldiers. Stoltenberg message to Putin is to end the war. Bundestags_President Bär lays down a wreath in Ukraine. Eggs are thrown towards Baerbock At an election speech in Germany. Moscow’s inner city is like a fortress: Chauvanistic and neo-imperialistic is the pathos of Putin, The gatherer of Russian honour. Russia a military and nuclear power, Second only to the USA, Speaks of security guarantees. Reanimation of Russian Weltmacht. In the defence of the Fatherland, There is no family in Russia, That hasn’t been involved in the Wars. Russia has always fought For a system of the folk. ‘ The Nato states don’t want to listen To our endeavours, ‘ says Putin. And speaks about the neo-Nazis and foreign military advisers From the USA and Nato countries. ‘Ours is the only right solution, We’ll respect and honour our ancestors And the Immortal Regiment. We’re proud of carrying it in our hearts. There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. The others have Russophobia. Today our soldiers fight in the Donbas. We remember all who have given their lives For the Fatherland: men, women, children. A minute of silence. Only the flames of the eternal soldiers lick the sky. Moscow holds its breath. The Victors Day parade honours the 27 million Russians Who died in World War II. The death of our soldiers is sad, We shall support the families of the soldiers. I kneel before you for your sacrifice. Terrorists also exist but they are not successful. We will care for the children. The bomb splitters will hold us together; An independent Russia. We’ll orient ourselves to our Armed Forces. An exercise in being one with the people. All men and women shout as one: hurrah! The military bank plays. ‘Russia must ensure the horror of a global war Will never be repeated, says President Putin cynically. The fluttering flag, the Kremlin and gun salutes. What was in-between the lines of his speech? There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. No mobilisation in the speech today. No feared demonstration of POWs, No MiGs and Sukhoi jets over the Red Square, No declaration of war against Ukraine. No provocation to the world. 19 batallions of 15,000 soldiers ready to cross Donbas. Casualties are taboo and the war goes on as usual. After the parade of the Armed Forces, Even a separate women’s battalion in skirts come by. Putin appears as a professional, closed personality. The Russians really believe the faschist danger in Ukraine. That the Nato troops are out to help the neo-Nazis, And are about to surround Russia. The Cold War worked in the Soviet days to keep its enemies at bay. The belief is that the future belongs to Russia, Although the launching of the invasion in Ukraine Was the biggest military blunder. A retreat from Ukraine would mean Putin Has lost the battle and his face. Seventy years of refraining from using the nukes; A path has to be found for mighty Russia To leave Ukraine in a dignified manner. The heavy, cumbersome tanks come: A display of hardware that Ukranians love to destroy, So long as they have the right weapons. Soldiers popping their heads out of the tanks, Saluting the Generals and the President. The ugly, fat missiles with red caps float by. Five big rockets mounted on trucks, No angst in the hearts of these unaware souls. Putin’s ultimate game is to set back the clock And regain all former Soviet territories. Donbas, Crimea, wherever there are separatists. Monstrous warheads featuring prominently, Warheads that spell Hell to countries where they explode; There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. It’s a a bright day in May with fluffy clouds. And the Russian brass band plays heroic tunes For the soldiers who died like sacrificial lambs. Then comes the all-male choir, Thundering voices in the Red Square. The band marches past in splendid formation. A few nondescript global dignitaries are also present. Putin looks short and obese as he gets up And walks in the Red Squares with his generals Who’s breasts display medals; Enough to sink a cruiser. .Men are indeed ruled by toys. He holds a short speech for the leaders of the Armed Forces; Talks with a general while walking briskly, With security men in black as shields. Do you hear the stutter of rifles, The screams of missiles, The thuds of the shells? The vast majority don’t watch news About what’s going on in the Ukraine. There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. The rivers of Ukranian and Russian blood flow In Kiev, Bursa, Mariupol and Donbas, Haven’t clotted. More blood is to flow. This is the reaffirmation of Putin’s ambitions. Till the troops have achieved their objectives A formidable country of patriots, Rifles go up in salute, Two soldiers bring a wreath Ageing generals with roses in their shaky hands. President Putin arranges the ribbons, And spends a quiet moment In memory of the 27,000 dead Soviets. Young girls with all their tenderness Lay flowers for the dead; Who now can neither touch silk nor cheeks. The bank begins with a clash of cymbals, The men and women of the Armed Forces salute. The Victory Day Parade is done with fervour and pomp. Many military invitees lay their red roses on the floor. The Russians feel good about the leadership. That was the would-be tzar’s sole intention. The parade goes on with smartly dressed units marching past. Putin walks and swings only his left hand. His right hand is stationary beside his rump. He has deep furrows below his eyes. Sleepless nights caused by Ukraine’s resilience. Lays scarlet flowers on coffins of the recently dead soldiers. A general with a grandchild and blues eyes. Putin tries to justify the Ukraine war. Collective responsibility for the war in Ukraine; A country which was attacked without provocation. A sovereign and independent state. The Ukranians have surprised the whole world, With admirable sacrifice, resistance and the desire To survive and exist as a nation, Bringing great military losses to Russia. The marine troops dressed in Prussian blue, Holding their weapons with a rehearsed pride, Noses like Roman senators in the air, Conjoured up images of a defiant, proud Russia. It all smells of fascism and tyranny during the Third Reich With the difference that it is Russias who are the faschists. Putin’s days in the GDR were well spent. He has not only learned the German tongue But unfortunately was fascinated by the Gestapo methods. But Ukraine, Crimea want their territories back. Putin' s Blitzkrieg, Special Operation, has led to a war of attrition. The Ukranians put up a good fight, Inflicting heavy losses to the fasists from Russia; Its conventional weapons couldn' t compete Against Nato hardware. The losses were enormous. No mention on Victory Day. The war against Ukraine Dishonours the dead Of the past and present. There where the soldiers lie buried In cemetaries and on the roadside, Sunflowers and poppies will grow; Orthodox crosses arranged in rows. The dead loved, drank vodka, Sang songs and now sleep, In the killing fields of Ukraine. THE CLOUDS OF WAR (Satis Shroff) Spring is with us now. Underneath the dry, yellow grass on the hillside You can see new grass arising. We’re looking forward to Summer, Even though thick clouds Have been caste by warlord Putin. Flower have started to bloom in the garden And in the wild meadows. There’s sunlight and the chirps and tweets Of the birds are audible. So manysoldiers and civilians Have died in the killing fields of Ukrain. Once the goldenen Kornkammer of the world, Now littered with demolished houses, Gaping tanks, shot down jets, pieces of missiles and shells. Moscow, you won’t be spared either, Unless you retreat. I saw tha shy, scared woodpeckerat the birdhouse. A crack of a twig and it’s away, Looking for safety. Nature is awakening in the early hours, With optimism and a new life. Over three million Ukranians have left the land. A greedy, paranoid tsar who lied to his folk, Has now to be held accountable For his war-crimes On a sovereign, independent nation. Moscow, your time will come too, Unless you retreat. The season of pairing begins among animals. And humans? Why, we dance into the month of May: Tanz in den Mai. Through music and dance We come close together. The women wear exquisite clothes and Trachten. May is when the Maiwanderung begins, When Austrians, Germans and Swiss folk Put on their trekking boots and walk to the hills. A wonderful tradition in the Alps, Vorarlberg and the Schwarzwald. The Russian dictator has licked blood And seen the Nato is reluctant to help Ukraine directly, For they are scared of the consequences Of a total war in Europe and North America. Radioactivity knowns no borders and spreads In ever increasing circles. Moscow, you won’t be spared either, Unless you retreat. Spring—a season with traditions. In Europe the clocks have been Put and hour ahead. And winter has been banished. Moscow, you have been isolated, And you won’t be spared either, Unless you retreat.