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A letter from Nepal

Satis Shroff

Satis Shroff is a Nepalese writer who writes in English since 1972. Shroff is a lecturer of creative writing, as well as a long-standing journalist and writer who started his writing career in 1972 with The Rising Nepal, a daily from Kathmandu. He is also a lecturer at the Akademie für medizinische Berufe (Uniklinik Freiburg), VHS-Freiburg and VHS-Dreisamtal in Kirchzarten.

He writes fiction and non-fiction since his days in Kathmandu as a journalist in 1972. He wrote a column Science Spot on the wildlife conservation, mountaineering, cultural themes as well as literature, development and tourism. He also wrote commentaries for the External Service of Radio Nepal, in addition to freelancing for The Christian Science Monitor and other newspapers in the USA in the early seventies.

He was born in Nepal and did his schooling in a British Public School in Darjeeling. He went to Kathmandu, Nepal for further studies and did his Intermediate in Science (ISc) from Amrit Science College and his Bachelor’s Degree (B Sc) from Tri Chandra College in the subjects Zoology, Botany and Geology. He came to Freiburg, Germany and studied Medicine (Albert-Ludwigs University) and thereafter Sozial Sciences (FH). He did Creative Writing under Fulbright Professor Bruce Dobler at the Albert-Ludwig University of Freiburg and in Manchester (UK). Bruce Dobler, Associate Professor in Creative Writing MFA, University of Iowa says “Satis Shroff writes with intelligence, wit and grace.”

He lives with his Alemannic wife and children in Freiburg-Kappel, Baden-Württember, Germany. He has also worked in Basle at the Klara and Bethesda Nursing Schools where he taught Swiss nurses, before starting to work as a lecturer at the Academy of Medical Professions (Uniklinik Freiburg) and the VHS-Freiburg and VHS-Kirchzarten in addition to running Creative Writing Workshops at the University of Education (Freiburg-Littenweiler).

Literature is translating emotions and facts from truth to fiction. It’s like a borderline syndrome; between sanity and insanity there’s fine dividing line. Similarly, non-fiction can be transformed into fiction. Virginia Woolf said, ‘There must be great freedom from reality.’ For Goethe, art was art because it was not nature. That’s what I like about fiction, this ability of transforming mundane things in life to jewels through the use of words. Rilke mentioned one ought to describe beauty with inner, quiet, humble righteousness. Approach nature and show what you see and experienced, loved and lost.(Satis Shroff)

His Zeitgeistlyrik portrays the current and former situation in Nepal, which Shroff views largely though the eyes of contemporary German  realist fiction. According to a German poet Sandra Sigel “Satis Shroff writes political poetry, about the war in Nepal, the sad fate of the Nepalese people, the emergence of neo-fascism in Germany. His bicultural perspective makes his poems rich, full of awe and at the same time heartbreakingly sad. In writing ‘home,’ he not only returns to his country of origin time and again, he also carries the fate of his people to readers in the West, and his task of writing thus is also a very important one in political terms. His true gift is to invent Nepalese metaphors and make them accessible to the West through his poetry.”

Another German writer Alice Grünfelder from Unionsverlag/ Limmat Verlag, Zürich says “The narration of Satis Shroff in ‘Through Nepalese Eyes’ are fascinating and gives us the chance to see our world with new eyes.” Heide Poudel says in WritersDen “Brilliant, I enjoyed your poems thoroughly. I can hear the underlying German and Nepali thoughts within your English language. The strictness of the German form mixed with the vividness of your Nepalese mother tongue. An interesting mix. Nepal is a jewel on the Earth’s surface, her majesty and charm should be protected, and yet exposed with dignity through words. You do your country justice and I find your bicultural understanding so unique and a marvel to read.”

US writer Susan Marie writes “Satis Shroff’s writing is refined – pure undistilled. The manner in which he writes takes the reader right along with him. Extremely vivid and just enough and the irony of the music. Beautiful prosaic thought and astounding writing.
‘Your muscles flex, the nerves flatter, the heart gallops,
As you feel how puny you are,
Among all those incessant and powerful waves.’

Magazine and newspaper contributions

Writing style and technique

Social Engagement

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLZpdMgt3NA Satis Shroff Grußwort

https://www.facebook.com/pages/MGV-Liederkranz-Freiburg-Kappel-eV/140662769336590

“Ich war noch niemals in New York”Festliches Weihnachtskonzert am 26.12.2013
MGV “Liederkranz” Freiburg Kappel e.V.

Ehrung eines aktiven MGV Sängers in Freiburg

Satis Shroff: Ehrung für 20-jähriges Engagement für Flüchtlinge und Migranten

Der Burgermeister für Kultur, Jugend, Soziales und Integration Ulrich von Kirchbach hat den aus Nepal stammenden Dozent, Dichter, Autor und Sänger (MGV Kappel) Satis Shroff in eine Festveranstaltung in Freiburg geehrt. Der ehemalige DAAD Preisträger wurde geehrt als „besondere Anerkennung für vorbildliches bürgerschaftliches Engagement bei der langjährigen Unterstützung und Begleitung von Flüchtlingen und als Vorstandsmitglied im Männergesangverein „Liederkranz“ Kappel e.V.

Satis Shroff lebt in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) und schreibt über ökologische, medizin-ethnologische und kultur-ethnische Themen. Er hat Zoologie und Botanik in Nepal, Social Sciences und Medizin in Freiburg und Creative Writing in Freiburg und UK studiert. Da Literatur eine der wichtigsten Wege ist, um die Kulturen kennenzulernen, hat er sein Leben dem Kreatives Schreiben gewidmet. Er arbeitet als Dozent in Basel (Schweiz) und in Deutschland an der Akademie für medizinische Berufe (Uniklinik Freiburg). Ihm wurde der DAAD-Preis verliehen.

Kultur kann Einblicke in fremde Lebenswelten geben, Grenzen überwinden, neue Horizonte öffnen und Kreativität fördern. In diesem Sinne sagte Herr Shroff in seine prägnante Dankeschönrede: „Ich werde Migranten raten in einem Deutschen Verein Mitglied zu werden, da es eine schöne Miteinander ist. Ich bin Mitglied beim Männergesangverein Kappel und fühle mich Sauwohl und gut aufgenommen von allen. Eine bessere weg zur Integration kann ich mir nicht vorstellen.“

Herr Shroff betreute Kinder- und Kriegsflüchtlinge aus Bosnien, Mazedonien und Kosovo-Albanien, begleitete sie durch die Schule und viele haben einen guten Schulabschluss geschafft.

Als Kontaktperson für den DAAD und der Alexander von Humboldt-Stiftung arbeitete Herr Shroff zusammen mit dem Akademischen Auslandsamt in Freiburg und betreute StudentInnen aus Nepal, Indien und England. Er hat diese StudentInnen begleitet und hält heute noch guten Kontakt zu diesen Akademikern.

Herr Shroff spricht fließend Englisch, Deutsch, Nepali, Hindi und Urdu und arbeitete ehrenamtlich als Dolmetscher beim Amtsgericht Freiburg. Er unterstützt sie wo er kann, denn diese Migranten sind hilflos in der Fremde und es gibt kulturelle, soziale und sprachliche Barrieren. Ein fremdes Verwaltungssystem und ein ungewohntes Gesetzgebung überfördert diese Menschen, und hier hilft Herr Shroff.

Satis Shroff, ehrenamtlicher Dolmetscher des Amtsgerichtes Freiburg, wird für 20-jähriges Engagement für Flüchtlinge und Migranten geehrt. Seit seiner Einwanderung 1975 dolmetschte er in Freiburger Flüchtlingsheimen sowie für das Sozial- und Jugendamt. In den 1990er Jahren unterstützte er durch Hausaufgabenbetreuung Flüchtlingskinder und deren Familien aus dem Kosovo und auch Flüchtlinge aus Nepal, Indien und Pakistan, da er Nepali, Hindi und Urdu spricht. Derzeit ist er als 1.Vorsitzender von Männergesangverein-Kappel “Liederkranz” und macht ein Benefizkonzert für die Flüchlingskinder von Syrien (Unicef) in der Kirchzartener Kurhaus am 20. März 2014.

Für die Stadt Ilmenau übersetzte Herr Shroff Goethes Gedicht „Wandrers Nachtlied“ in Nepali. Er übersetzt Nepali Literature ins Deutsche. Sein Gedichtband „Im Schatten des Himalaya“ ist bei http://www.Lulu.com/spotlight/satisle erschienen.

Bevor er nach Deutschland kam „for further studies“ wie es so schön auf Englisch heißt, hat er in Katmandu als Features Redakteur in The Rising Nepal gearbeitet und schrieb eine naturwissenschaftliche Kolumne, und Leitartikel für Radio Nepal verfasst.

Er hat sechs Bücher geschrieben: Im Schatten des Himalaya (Gedichte und Prosa), Through Nepalese Eyes (Reisebericht), Katmandu, Katmandu (Gedichte und Prosa mit Nepali Autoren) Glacial Whispers (Gedichtesammlung zwischen 1997-2010). Er hat zwei Sprachführer im Auftrag von Horlemann Verlag und Deutsche Stiftung für Entwicklungsdienst (DSE) geschrieben, außerdem drei Artikeln über die Gurkhas, Achtausender und Nepals Symbolen für Nelles Verlags ‚Nepal’ und über Hinduismus in „Nepal: Myths & Realities (Book Faith India). Sein Gedicht „Mental Molotovs“ wurde im epd-Entwicklungsdienst (Frankfurt) veröffentlicht. Seine Lyrik sind in Slow Trains, International Zeitschrift, World Poetry Society (WPS), New Writing North, Muses Review, The Megaphone, Pen Himalaya, Interpoetry publiziert worden. Er ist ein Mitglied von Writers of Peace, poets, essayists, novelists (PEN), World Poetry Society (WPS).

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Satis Shroff für Deutschen Engagementpreis 2011 nominiert

Satis Shroff /Green City Freiburg/MGV-Kappel dankt allen Unterstützern und freiwilligen Mitarbeitern.

Freiburg, 16.8.2011. Satis Shroff, MGV-Kappel ist für den Deutschen Engagementpreis nominiert. Dies wurde Satis Shroff durch ein Schreiben des „Projektbüros Deutscher Engagementpreis“ in Berlin mitgeteilt.

Satis Shroff wurde aufgrund seiner Soziale Engagement für den Deutschen Engagementpreis vorgeschlagen. Der Einsatz für soziale Engagement erfährt durch diese Nominierung eine besondere Anerkennung. Dies erfreut nicht nur [MGV-Kappel/Satis Shroff], sondern zeigt auch, dass das Thema soziale Engagement und Miteinander im Verein öffentlich wahrgenommen und als preiswürdig eingeschätzt wird. Der Deutsche Engagementpreis ehrt freiwillig engagierte Organisationen, Unternehmen und Personen. Die Auszeichnung wird verliehen vom Bündnis für Gemeinnützigkeit, einem Zusammenschluss von großen Dachverbänden und unabhängigen Organisationen des Dritten Sektors sowie von Experten und Wissenschaftlern. Förderer des Preises sind das Bundesministerium für Familie, Senioren, Frauen und Jugend (BMFSFJ) und der Zukunftsfonds der Generali Deutschland Holding AG.

Der Deutsche Engagementpreis wird in den Kategorien Gemeinnütziger Dritter Sektor, Einzelperson, Wirtschaft, Politik & Verwaltung sowie der diesjährigen Schwerpunktkategorie Engagement von Älteren vergeben. Während eine Experten-Jury die Preisträger der einzelnen Kategorien bestimmt, können sich auch die Bürger selbst an der Auswahl der Sieger beteiligen: Sie wählen im Herbst den Gewinner des mit 10.000 Euro dotierten Publikumspreises mittels Online-Voting-Verfahren auf der Website http://www.deutscher-engagementpreis.de aus einer Vorauswahl von ca. 20 Projekten.

Mit dem diesjährigen Schwerpunkt widmet sich der Deutsche Engagementpreis in besonderem Maße dem Engagement von Älteren. Die „Generation 60plus“ zeichnet sich durch hohe Einsatzbereitschaft für das Gemeinwohl aus. Dieses Engagement verdient Anerkennung und öffentliche Aufmerksamkeit. Auch in/im Männergesangverein Kappel „Liederkranz“ sind zahlreiche ältere Menschen aktiv und leisten einen wertvollen Beitrag im Einsatz für Freiburg, Kappel, das Dreisamtal, der Badische Sängerbund.

  • 2 External links

Bibliography:

Katmandu, Katmandu: Satis Shroff’s anthology is about a poet caught between upheavals in two countries, Nepal and Germany, where maoists and skin-heads are trying to undermine democratic values, religious and cultural life. Satis Shroff writes political poetry, in German and English, about the war in Nepal (My Nepal, Quo vadis?), the sad fate of the Nepalese people (My Nightmare, Only Sagarmatha Knows), the emergence of neo-fascism in Germany (Mental Molotovs, The Last Tram to Littenweiler) and love (The Broken Poet, Without Words, About You), women’s woes (Nirmala, Bombay Brothel). His bicultural perspective makes his poems rich, full of awe and at the same time heartbreakingly sad. In writing ‘home,’ he not only returns to his country of origin time and again, he also carries the fate of his people to readers in the West, and his task of writing is a very important one in political and social terms. His true gift is to invent Nepalese metaphors and make them accessible to the West through his poetry.

Im Schatten des Himalaya: Themen der Geschichten und Gedichten sind u.a.: Kampf um Demokratie (My Nepal: Quo vadis?), Transition (Wenn die Seele sich verabschiedet), und die Stellung der Frau (Bombay Bordel, Nirmala: Zwischen Terror und Ekstase), die verführerische Bergwelt (Die Himalaya rufen, Die Sehnsucht der Himalaya), das Leben in der Fremde (Gibt es Hexen in Deutschland?), Soldatenleben und Krieg (Der Verlust einer Mutter, Die Agonie des Krieges, Kein letzte Sieg), Tod nach Tollwut (Fatale Entscheidung), Trennung und Emanzipation (Santa Fe), Migration und Fremdenhass (Mental Molotovs, Letzte Tram nach Littenweiler), Tourismus (Mein Alptraum, Die Götter sind weg), Alkoholismus (Der Professors Gattin), Gewalt (Krieg), Trennung (Die Stimme, Der Rosenkrieg), Nachbarn (Die Sommerhitze) und die Liebe (Der zerbrochene Dichter, Eine seufzende Prinzessin, Ohne Wörter), die Familie (Meine Maya), der Tod (An Carolin Walter, Wenn die Seele Abschied nimmt).

Through Nepalese Eyes: ‘Through Nepalese Eyes’ is about the journey of a young Nepalese woman to Germany to meet her brother, who lives with his German wife and daughter in an allemanic town named Freiburg. It is a travelogue written by a sensitive, modern British public-school educated man. He describes the two worlds: Asia and Europe and the people he meets. There is a touch of sadness when his sister returns to her home in the foothills of the Himalayas.

A Gurkha Mother & Mental Molotovs: This book is about love, the sad fate of the Nepalese people, the lure of the Himalayas and the trials and tribulations of a cross-section of the Nepali people, with characters and themes pertaining to the agrarian, soldier, teaching and other milieus. Globalisation has reached Kathmandu Valley but the world outside Kathmandu Valley still remains rural and untouched by modernity. The trekking tourism has been booming along the much-treaded trails, but village-life has changed little. Nepal has been declared a Federal Republic but a certain uneasiness lingers in the Himalayas..

External links

www.facebook.com/satis.shroff

http://SearchWarp.com/Author83824.htm

www.worldsentinel.com/categories/world/France

www.slowtrains.com/rave_on/rave_on.html

www.star.cityes.org/…/the-official-catalogue-of-the-members-of-w.p.s.-19-july-2006-8-june-2008.html

www.brooklynartproject.ning.com/…/satis-shroff-in-lyrik

www.satisshroff.wordpress.com/ethnomedical-therapy-2008-satis-shroff/

www.searchwarp.com/Author83824.htm

www.jacketflap.com/profile.asp?member=Satis

www.bookmarket.ning.com/profile/satisshroff

www.ayjw.org/articles.php?id=911453

www.satisshroff.wordpress.com

www.booksie.com/poetry/…/nepal-blues-(satis-shroff)

www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoetry.asp?…

www.boloji.com/places/0039.htm

www.gurkhas.com/ShowArticle.aspx?ID=187

www.ayjw.org/articles.php?id=942415

www.interpoetry.com/satisshroff19.html

www.sonog.com/viewwriting.php

www.asianamericanpoetry.com/show_poem.php?…Satis_Shroff3e016vkamq

www.thepeopleslounge.ning.com/profile/SatisShroff

www.musesreview.org/html/main.php?g2

www.voicesnet.mobi/mobidisplayonedoc.asp?..

www.satisshroff-zeitgeist.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html

Authority control

Categories

Originally posted on Satis Shroff's ZEITGEIST:

Creative Writing Workshop at the Schreibzentrum, University of Education (PH-Freiburg)
Savvy writings by Creative Writing students of the University of Education at the KuCa, PH-Freiburg? Neue Texte aus der Literarischen Schreibwerkstatt am 31. Juli 2014 um 19:30 Uhr:Annette Pehnt * * * * * Begrüßung

Renate Narr * * * * * Wahrheit oder Pflicht

Susanne Hartmann * * * * Spezialtour

Kerstin Lang-Fuchs * * * * My Hometown, Cafe & the Cemetery

Bernd Schulz * * * Wie aus Andreas Hotdog wurde

Sylvia Schmieder * * * * * Einsame Insel

P A U S E

Gerd Bräuer * * * * * The Bicycle Racer

Ulrike Brechter * * * * * Lupo

Stefanie Lumpe * * * * *

Satis Shroff * * * * How Could I Exist?

Werner Leuthner * * * * Bericht aus dem Bergwerk

Satis Shroff: three readings in July…

View original 8 more words

Creative Writing Workshop at the Schreibzentrum, University of Education (PH-Freiburg)
Savvy writings by Creative Writing students of the University of Education at the KuCa, PH-Freiburg? Neue Texte aus der Literarischen Schreibwerkstatt am 31. Juli 2014 um 19:30 Uhr:Annette Pehnt * * * * * Begrüßung

Renate Narr * * * * * Wahrheit oder Pflicht

Susanne Hartmann * * * * Spezialtour

Kerstin Lang-Fuchs * * * * My Hometown, Cafe & the Cemetery

Bernd Schulz * * * Wie aus Andreas Hotdog wurde

Sylvia Schmieder * * * * * Einsame Insel

P A U S E

Gerd Bräuer * * * * * The Bicycle Racer

Ulrike Brechter * * * * * Lupo

Stefanie Lumpe * * * * *

Satis Shroff * * * * How Could I Exist?

Werner Leuthner * * * * Bericht aus dem Bergwerk

Satis Shroff: three readings in July in Schönberg, Freiburg-Kappel & University of Education (Freiburg)..

MGV ‘Liederkranz’ Kappel: What’s up in July 2014?

Image                     THAT WAS YESTERDAY..

                                     Image

                                            AND THIS IS THE MGV-KAPPEL TODAY…                  

11. Juli 2014: Eingemeindungsjubiläum um 18 Uhr in der Mehrzweckhalle-Kappel. In Sängeruniform antreten.

Literatur: Lesung um 20 Uhr in der Gemeindeheim-Kappel.

Veranstalter: KKV-Kappel.

Moderator: Ernst Ehemann.

Autoren: Hildegard Schaufelberger, Satis Shroff und Herr Reichert.

 

26. Juli 2014: MGV Projektchor Konzert um 20 Uhr in der Kapplerhalle. mgv-kImageappel.de

 

 

MGV ‘Liederkranz’ Kappel: What’s up in June 2014?(Image

 

Men’s choir concert, Freiburg-Kappel, last Summer. It was great fun to sing all those German hits, English Pop etc. This kid’s Dad was also singing. Welcome to Kappel on the 26th of July 2014 to our Project Concert 2014. 

Herzlichen Glückwunsch an Geburtstagskinder Walter Fuß und Franz Wießler.

1. Sa. 31. Mai 2014: Edgar Huber wurde 85 und wir haben gesungen bei Ihm zu Hause. Danach sind wir zu einem kleinen Fest eingeladen worden. Edgar hat gestrahlt.

 

  1. 2.Juni 2014: Endgültigen Programm ablauf von Kappler Juliläum am 30.Juli 2014 in der Sitzungssaal des Rathauses.

 

  1. 3.Juni 2014: Gemeindeheimgespräch wegen der MGV-Fahne um 20 Uhr. Erste Gesprächstermin hat schon am 28. Mai 2014 stattgefunden. Ergebnis noch ungewiß. Im Eingangsbereich möglicherweise.

 

  1. 7.Juni 2014: Jahreshauptversammlung von Sportverein Kappel ist verschoben auf 27.6.2014.

  2. 19. Juni 2014: Fronleichnam Prozession von kathol. Pfarrgemeinde um 8:30 Uhr.

 

  1. 21 Juni 2014: Einladung zum Richtfest der Stollenhütte Kappel um 14 Uhr.

                           Herr Ruf Meinrad, 75, feierte sein Geburtstag. Gratulation.

 

  1. 23. Juni 2014: 85. Geburtstag von Hans Ganter. Herzlich eingeladen, gesungen, danach Imbiss mit Getränke. Schöne Gartenambiente.

 

  1. 28. Juni 2014: Probetag von 10-14 Uhr. Danach Wanderung in Richtung Pfeifferberg. Kaffe und Kuchen. Bitte wer kann soll Kuchen backen und mitbringen.

20:00 Uhr Generalversammlung von Sportverein Kappel. Ort: Sportheim Kappel.

 

  1. 29.Juni 2014: Patrozinium um 9:30 Pfarrgemeindehaus.

 

  1. 30 Juni 2014: MGV-Vorstandssitzung um 19:30 bei Linders

 

 

Savvy New Project Choir Songs?

 

Geboren um zu leben (Rock Ballade:Heinrich Graf)

Wenn ich mal alt bin (When I’m sixty-four) Lennon/McCartney, German text: Westerhagen

Zieh einen Korken raus (Stimmungslied: Anton Gus)

Que sera,sera (Wiegender Walzer: Jay Livingston, Ray Edwards)

An Tagen wie diesen (Die Toten Hosen)

MGV-Kappel: What’s UP? (Satis Shroff)

 

The Soccer Battlefield (Satis Shroff)

 

Soccer is a battlefield of nations,

A krieg of ethnic groups from the globe.

A place where people become tolerant and peaceful,

But when a title and a trophy are at stake.

The basic instinct takes command,

Men go wild.

 

The team is a tribe with warriors,

Who slog for the benefit of the whole.

Sometimes there are fighters

Who can route the opponents alone,

With stamina, power and strong will.

 

When a team loses it releases tears of loss, shame and hopelessness.

If a team wins there’s euphoria in the air,

Charged with adrenalin, oxytocin and endorphine,

Surging in bloodstream,

Happiness knows no bounds.

The measuring of muscles, strength and ingenuity

Of the contestants.

In the arena men become lions

In archaic moments of victory,

And are in reality gladiators

Who raise their limbs in heroic poses,

Jeering at the emotional masses,

Parade their gleaming sweaty torsos,

Remove their monochrome tricots,

And throw them to the eager fans.

 

Ah, this moment of triumph,

When the thumbs of the spectators go up,

Amid ecstatic shrieks of glee.

The winner takes it all at this crucial moment.

The trainer with the wrinkled, tormented face,

Takes it as a compliment,

When his strategy wins.

The Netherlands overruns Spain’s defences,

Undermining its tiki-taka tactics.

The Teutons say ‘the ball is round,’

Meaning you never know where it’ll land.

Great football nations thus take their hats,

Dazed, out-dribbled and knocked out,

Against the fantasy-rich legwork of dwarf nations.

 

Soccer,

A military game,

Where the job is to field the right elite fighters,

To combat the bulwarks and systems of the antagonists,

For a hunt for a ball in the jungle of extremities,

With a subjective hawk-eyed whistle-blower,

Who sees, misjudges and does not pipe,

For the hidden elbow-checks, blows and kicks,

On the anatomy of the opponents go unseen.

 

What counts is whether the ball was inside the goal or not,

Captured frozen, digital images:

Goal or no goal.

If it’s a goal the brain gives a command to the body:

Rejoice!

 

A club game is a small affair,

But a world championship is a national happening,

With coloured flags, war-paint on the faces,

National hymns and rhythms.

Nationalism dominates.

The German commentator speaks

Of ‘sugar-hut’ when he means Brazilians.

The British press writes:’German panzer stopped.’

Italy is out and Les Blues wins a game.

 

A war by proxy,

Not in the killing fields of Verdun and Stalingrad,

But in soccer stadiums in South America.

United we stand, divided we fall,

Has been internalised in the microglia of the brain.

The soccer clubs import these very world players,

But Soares fights for his country today.

It’s war, competition, performance,

Whereby the best team wins,

Ready to take risks,

Play the game

In fighting spirit.

Casualties are a part of the game,

For you’ve been licking the wounds of the last battle.

 

Between dribbling Rio has diverted public money

For soccer tournaments.

Lula da Silva’s fame is soured by scandals,

Transport, health and education have been lagging.

It’s a Burridan’s choice between domestic needs

And foreign luxury.

Yellow cards make the rounds,

With the blessing of Amnesty International,

To wage a war against the violence of the soccer state.

Violence against humans,

Structural and economic violence,

Not to speak of the dead,

At the hands of the police,

Your friend and helper.

The Brazilians under the poverty-line,

Pay dearly for the world cup.

North Sea Lyrik: SPRINGTIME IN SYLT (Satis Shroff)

 

Sylt at Dawn (Satis Shroff)

 

You hear the waves

As they splash onto the shore.

You haven’t opened your eyey,

But you discern the cries of sea gulls,

As you slowly let the sunlight

Into your eyes.

 

Ah, the reassuring rays caress your face,

As you proceed to the balcony,

Stretch yourself

And let out cha-cha-cha,

Pa-pa-pa sounds between your teeth,

That you’ve learned

While singing in your choir.

 

A seagull with a fish in its beak

Flutters by.

All white and airborne,

Twinkling on a blue sky.

Out in the horizon,

A turquoise blue trawler chugs by.

 

 

 

Habitat for Wild (Satis Shroff)

 

The flora and fauna

have a hard time

In winter.

 

The white mantle

Of snow covers

The branches, buds and barks.

 

The owl loves winter

As it takes in all

Beings that move,

With its keen sight.

 

The woodpecker knows

Where the larvae and insects

Are hiding.

 

It’s Spring,

The landscape gardeners

Have chopped all the trees.

Now the spur is bare,

No more can I see

The deer that came

To greet me,

To chill in the peace

Of the undergrowth,

And partake

Of the wild elderberries.

 

Man needs new dwellings again,

Alas, the habitat shrinks some more.

When the deer eat vegetables

In Frau Sumser’s garden,

She cries,

‘Inform the official hunter.

They have to be shot.’

 

The deer are unwelcome guests

In her precious garden.

Now and then

A russet fox,

With a bushy tail,

Comes stealthily by.

 

Hope the hunter doesn’t get a hint.

His duty is to keep wild away,

From human domiclies.

If he doesn’t shoot,

He’s a bad hunter.

If he does,

He’s a bad guy.

 

And so the habitat dwindles,

For the wild.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lost Friendships (Satis Shroff)

 

When old friends

Go asunder,

What remains

Are memories,

Of moments

In tranquillity.

 

When world tremble

And words shiver,

When lips vibrate

And nothing comes out

Of your larynx.

 

Just the uneasy

Breath from your nostrils.

The silence and solitude

That prevails,

When friendships

Have lost their meanings.

 

Encounters,

Wiedersehen,

Become embarassing.

And words become superfluous.

The old wounds bleed again,

Causing pain,

That come like sea waves,

Incessantly,

Stab and go.

 

* * *

 

 

Time and Tide (Satis Shroff)

 

It’s early in the morning,

On a cold wintry day.

The horizon,

A crimson and orange haze.

 

The sea looks blue, far away,

But a muddy brown near you.

A solitary figure in a black overcoat,

Throat wrapped with a long muffler,

Stands like a black storch,

Staring at the sand below his feet.

 

Is he watching

The crustaceans,

Creeping on the shore?

Or is he thinking about a friendship?

Suddenly the frothy white waves

Drench his feet.

Too late.

Time and tide

Don’t wait for your thoughts.

He walks on,

With furtive glances

Thrown at the sea.

 

* * *

 

Sea Shells on the Shore (Satis Shroff)

 

How beautiful life is,

With you

And me.

Like little children,

Gathering lovely sedimentary stones,

Washed and chiselled by time,

And by the waves

In the North Sea.

 

Cockels and mussels in their unique

Facets and colours,

Caught between dark sea weeds,

Trapped between the man-made Buhnes,

Far from the dunes.

 

Alas, the fascinating life forms

That lived inside the carbonate

Mussels and shells,

Have long lost their homes;

Either eaten by the gulls

Or other winged fishers.

 

What remains are the crushed

Cockels and shells

Of salt water mollusc,

When human boots tread on them.

And children and grown ups

Collect them.

Conversation pieces,

In afternoons with coffe, cakes and scones.

‘Look what I found on the shore!’

 

* * *

 

Spring on the Sea (Satis Shroff)

 

The birds twitter,

The sun shines.

The crocuses are everywhere,

Upon well-laid lawns.

 

You can smell Spring,

When it gets warm.

The wet air climbs up

And with it the scents

Of grass and spring flowers,

Dancing gaily in the North Sea wind.

 

You bend down often,

While walking along the beach,

To admire a strand snail or a dead sea horse,

Heart mussels, American sword mussels,

Oysters or sea urchins,

Shells with chunks and fissures.

 

The silver seagulls flying low,

With long wings spread,

Argus eyes foraging for food.

Geese searching for mollusc morsels

In the sandy dunes.

 

Now and then you see

The black oyster fishers,

White tailed bearing wing stripes,

Dive in the green-bluish water,

Swooping down like kamikazi planes,

With breathless precision.

Out they come from the sea

With fidgety fishes

Between their sharp, orange beaks.

 

They’re experienced

At cracking stubborn mulluscs,

Till the adductors give way.

The gulls known as Lachmöwe,

Search for edibles in garbage depots,

And even behind ploughing tractors.

 

* * *

 

The Canvas of Nature (Satis Shroff)

 

The colours on the canvas of Nature melt:

Blue skies,

Yellow fields,

The grey of the wintry waves,

When the sunlight is hidden,

Behind a veil of fog.

 

You’re overwhelmed

By your feelings,

Moments of euphoria,

Streams of consciousness

In the melancholic North Sea environs.

 

Intimate, gleeful moments,

When you see a big orange crab,

Stranded on the beach.

Entangled in dark sea weed,

Or Seetang as we call it in German.

 

The next big waves arrive,

With short intervals,

Sweep over the stones and sea shells on the beach.

The crab has disappeared,

Claimed by the sea.

What a delight.

 

A seagull lies on the shore,

Amid the flotsam and jetsam,

Blown by the last storm,

In List to the north of Sylt.

 

Another seagull circles the prey

From the sky,

Comes down and perches near the dead gull,

Picks and pulls its entrails.

 

To think that life began,

In the primordeal ocean.

The relationship between humans

And the sea,

When man began to venture,

Towards the unknown.

 

Fired by the desire

To search for the unknown,

Limits of the peaks and seas,

With bigger and bigger boats and ships,

The ear of colonialism began.

 

But such voyages had to be backed

With money and things it can buy,

By rulers who smelt and wanted more

Riches and spices from the Indies,

West or East.

 

* * *

 

Tale of Destruction (Satis Shroff)

 

Tell the tale you clouds and gulls,

Despite the happiness and hope,

Spread by the sunlight

In early Spring.

 

Tell your tale of destruction

Carried by the gales and storms,

That bore names.

 

The wooden stairs and platforms

Lie now strewn upon the shore,

Blown to smitherens.

Plastic products everywhere,

Among a people that care.

A water desert,

That has been left behind,

As a warning,

Till the next big gale.

 

* * *

 

The Golden Sun (Satis Shroff)

 

Through the cloudy veil

Appears the golden sun,

Changing the silvery North Sea

To a golden and crimson horizon.

The waves adorned with rich teints

Of yellow, orange blue and brown hues.

 

A fascinating play of colours,

Unfolding before your eyes.

Even the man-made Buhnen glow.

As you trudge on the beach sand,

To avoid wetting your shows,

By the ever coming frothy waves,

As they peter out near you.

 

You’re thankful for everything

That you’ve been given or attained

In lifespan.

Like a moment of revelation,

An epipiphany,

Or when you’ve had a near-death experience.

 

Thankful for who and what you are,

Towards your parents, teachers and mentors,

Who’ve moved you towards your goal.

In this spectacular theatre called life.

Ah, when Heaven and Earth unite,

The air, land and water.

 

Chandrama the moon appears

Like a sickle in the vast blue sky,

Bidding farewell to Surya,

The Sun God,

Who has metamorphosed into Agni,

The fiery Goddess that swallows all,

With her purifying flames.

This is the revelation of an epiphany,

A spectacle bathed in scarlet,

Orange, yellow, greenish-blue light.

 

Ah, how must it have been,

When the world was created?

 

* * *

 

The North Sea (Satis Shroff)

 

The sea fascinates the artist in you,

It’s dramatic setting,

With its ceaseless waves.

 

Strong winds are pushing

Curly clouds in the vast sky,

The heavy waves roll,

In the bluish-grey seascape,

Emitting a long line of spray,

Above the white froth.

 

* * *

 

A Hymn to the Splendour (Satis Shroff)

 

The sea is calm and a fair moon

Stealthily appears in the sky,

Behind the northern clouds.

 

The red cliff of Kampen glimmers

Under the light of the dying sun.

And the waves take on yellow, orange, scarlet hues.

The tides still roar decently,

Cease, recede, only to come again.

 

A sweet Frisian nocturnal air,

Mingles with the smell of salt and fish,

Gets whipped up by the wind.

 

The golden light hangs,

Like a hymn to the splendour

Of this world.

 

* * *

 

The Ebb and Flow of Refugees (Satis Shroff)

 

The waves shimmer like silvery fishes,

The sand is bleached by the moonlight,

As you walk holding hands,

Barefeet along the shore.

 

The waves have left pebbles,

Sea shells, sea weed and crustaceans,

Flotsam and jetsam,

On the sea shore.

 

And the ebb and flow of refugees,

In the distance of the Mediterranean Sea,

Who’ve struggled in their countries,

But were obliged to flee

From their human foes.

 

Taken to the open sea,

Which remains full of dangers,

Whimsical and unpredictable.

The longing for European shores,

Where milk and honey flow.

 

A forlorn hope that ends,

For many in the bottom of the sea.

 

* * *

 

Invisible Threshold (Satis Shroff)

 

Did I boast of fleeting things,

Of illusions in these earthly confines?

How vain we are,

When we don’t realise,

That our very existence

Is an earthly maya.

 

Intangible shadows we grasp with our hands,

When we know we have to leave

For our eternal home.

When we cross the invisible threshold,

We don’t need visas and passports,

Green and blue cards.

As we wander through the twilight

Sans bodies,

To be one with the cosmos.

 

* * *

 

A Magical Moment (Satis Shroff)

 

The North Sea grey-green in the from afar,

Gets frothy as the waves approach the shore.

The splendour of coloured clouds covering the immense sky.

It’s inspired fear to mortals,

It’s a revelation to those with hearts,

As seagulls glide over the horizon,

To land near the red cliff of Sylt.

A magical moment of forlornness,

Amid the beauty and vastness,

Of the sky and the waves.

 

As the glowing ball call the sun sinks,

It radiates sparkling hues,

Across the sky and waves.

The royal blue of the sky,

Is reflected upon the sea.

In the higher reaches,

It mellows to a brilliant yellow and orange,

As the fiery sun becomes scarlet.

 

* * *

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

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