SATIS SHROFF

SATIS

SHROFF

THE DANCE OF THE BIRCH TREES

The naked white birch trees

Stand close to each other,

Waiting for the music

Of the Dreisam Valley wind

To begin.

A gust comes,

Followed by another,

Making the trees sway,

Like a wise white woman's long tresses,

The thin, supple twigs

That almost reach half the size of the trees,

Have a faster rhythm of their own.

The hurricane-like wind

Gathers its energy for the finale.

Ah, the upper branches

With capillary-like twigs,

As they anastomose,

Developing into a canopy,

Become intensive

In their movements to and fro.

In the background you see

The blue Black Forest hills,

With homesteads like dots

On the snow-covered hillsides,

That are lit now.

The bluish-grey clouds which were on the move,

Have taken a Prussian blue hue.

A weak yellowish light,

Manages to break through,

Above the snowy-clad peaks.

A semblance of a sunset

In the Schwarzwald.

(c)satisshroff

A TRAIN JOURNEY

A screaming train,

Billowing smoke and sparks,

As it reaches Ghoom hill,

Descends to Darjeeling

Looping its way to lessen its speed.

What unfurls is a memorable Bergblick:

The majestic panorama of the snow peaks,

The Kanchenjunga in all its splendour.

The summits like a jewelled crown,

Bathed in golden, yellow and orange light.

A moment of revelation in life,

Shared on a particular evening,

As the sun goes down slowly,

The mountain range is glowing,

A Himalayan glow.

A feast for the eyes of the beholder,

The play of lights

Evoked by the dying sun,

Upon the massif.

(c)satisshroff

THE DANCER AND THE POET

There she is a blonde Flamenco dancer,

From a family that was long dysfunctional.

The poet said: ‘Dance, my dear to the rhythm

Of the guitar and my lyrics.’

She pushes her feet to perform the fiery rhythms,

She dances in a trance,

Like a shaman in a séance.

By working them out

Till she’s exhausted after each dance.

He seduces her and insults her,

Then pushes her away.

He’s her lover, hater and seducer,

All in one.

He appears to her like a scarlet devil at times,

At other times, he’s a cavalier,

A gigolo who seduces also other women.

* * *

Her praises her in his verses,

Gives her red roses and kisses.

She’s in seventh Heaven,

Stunned by bolts of ecstatic lyrics.

Suddenly he lets her fall down.

Then he plays with her again.

Bodies twined they dance with each other,

Make love and melt into one.

Synchronised ravishing movements.

A passionate fire flares up as the two bodies meet

Only to go asunder.

* * *

This makes her doubt;

Melancholy creeps into her heart.

The temperament caused by the poet’s lyrics

Stimulate and subside.

There’s wild ravishment and sadness in the air.

She thinks: ‘When we came together

It was like a blitz,

That touched my heart.

You brought me fire like Prometheus,

Kindled it within me.

Ah, love when we’re together

We come out of our shells

And enter each other.’

* * *

Our love is like a flower with feelings

It needs to be cared for,

It needs the sun so that the perfume

Can unfold itself.

Your hatred is a contagious fire,

Like darkness which douses the fire within me.

I feel the ecstasy and love dying.

Alas, the magic of amour has disappeared;

Leaving behind only a faint hope.

* * *

I gave you my love,

You gave me your poesie,

Written in love’s flaming script.

You gave me light but also darkness.

Your kiss stirred my soul;

My heart began to sing

Your body promised me secrets and delicious hours

I’d never known.

During the day I walked

Like in a dream with opiate senses.

* * *

Cold and malignant hatred is all I feel,

It has been devouring me.

Your love is a sad, destructive poem,

Your countenance is a mask,

And behind it another mask.

A puzzle to me,

Almost a secret.

An unbearable and cruel love,

I cannot fathom.

Scorn, fear and hatred remain.

I creep around broken with tears.

* * *

‘I crouched below your window

Till your new lover stealthily went away.

I howled to the skies in vain.

How could such an immortal love pass away?

The vicissitudes of our relationship led me to a decision:

I saw the Mephisto unveiled in you,

I have no desire to follow you to Hell.

Adieu, my veiled friend and tormentor.

© satisshroff

SATIS SHROFF

SATIS SHROFF is based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) and he is dedicated to promoting and creating awareness for Creative Writing and transcultural togetherness in his writings, and in preserving an attitude of Miteinander in this world. Satis Shroff received the Pablo Neruda Award 2017 as well as the German Academic Exchange Prize. He was awarded the Social Engagement Prize of Green City Freiburg.