Satis Shroff's LYRICS ON LOVE

How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears. (Romeo and Julia: Shakespeare)

GROW WITH LOVE (Satis Shroff)

Love yourself

Accept yourself,

For self-love and self-respect

Are the basis of joy, emotion

And spiritual well being.

Watch your feelings,

Study your thoughts

And your beliefs,

For your existence

Is unique and beautiful.

You came to the world alone

And you go back alone.

But while you breathe

You are near

To your fellow human beings,

Families, friends and strangers

As long as you are receptive.

Open yourself to lust and joy,

To the wonders of daily life and Nature.

Don’t close your door to love.

If you remain superficial,

You’ll never reach its depth.

Love is more than a feeling.

Love is also passion and devotion.

Grow with love and tenderness.

------------------------------------------

WITHOUT WORDS (Satis Shroff)

We speak with each other

A wonderful feeling overcomes me

And I’m touched to the roots of my existence.

As though it was a doubling of my existence.

It becomes a passion

To speak with each other.

Our lives filled with togetherness:

With ourselves and our children.

I discover myself in you

And you in me.

Where one is at home

In the company of the other

And vice versa.

Where you can be the way you are

Where I can be the way I am.

Our tolerance for each other is crucial

There are moments when one forgets time.

We speak to each other without words.

It’s not sung,

It’s not instrumental chords.

Just our hearts understanding each other.

In tact with each other.

Our eyes speak volumes

And a nod is enough.

---------------------------------------------

THE TANTRIC WOMAN (Satis Shroff)

An eruption of scarlet flush

On her cheeks, throat

And between her breasts

Became visible.

She wore a silvery satin top.

Her breast heaved as she inhaled

And said in a throaty voice:

‘I have a vision that all

Men and women are brothers and sisters.

I am a woman with power,

And possess female energy.

I have done Zen meditation with my guru.

Lately I had tantric-sex with my partner.

I felt our energies mingling

As they rose from our groins,

Along the chakras to our heads

And back again.

Wonderful moments of bliss

And fulfilment.

Through tantra I have realised

How wonderful I am.

I feel enriched and strong,

My sexuality has grown.

I had a male admirer for erotic relationships.

Tantric-sex is reserved for my boy-friend,

Whom I regard as my spiritual partner.

Through the healing power of self-love,

I have experienced healing and sexuality.

To love means to let a man be a man

And a woman a woman.

I’ve combed and tied my hair behind.

I’m wearing loose woollen clothes

To distract the youngsters and other males

And hide my curves,

When I work as a social worker.

They all want to have

Body contact with me.

I try to look unappealing,

Though I’m in love

With my body, heart and soul.

I feel like a wise woman,

And I have visions.

In my childhood my father mishandled me.

My grandpa did the same

With a cousin of mine.

Even I was on the verge of mishandling

A female cousin of mine.

I have danced

The Dance of the Demons.

A negative energy

Gets the better of me at times.

I threw my son from my lap

When I wanted to fight

With my partner.

Another time I thrashed my son

With his teddy bear,

A dozen times.

My aggression gets the better of me.

I get wild when I’m angry

And turn to a fury.

Tantra is a cocktail

Of love, sexuality and meditation.

I haven’t embraced the inner child in me.

I’m still working on the polarity

Of my yin and yang.

--------------------------------

THE FLAW (Satis Shroff)

I constantly live in angst.

Angst to be unmasked.

My spouse knows it.

My daughter knows it.

But no one else does.

I feel like a failure in life,

Because I have this flaw.

My parents had no time.

They worked and slaved

To earn our daily bread.

Father came often with a bad breath

From the taverns and inns.

He beat us and mother.

My teacher thrashed me too.

I had concentration problems.

As a child I had to work

With a wooden hoe and a bull,

For terraced farming wasn’t easy,

And my father was a farmer.

I felt ignored by my parents.

My mother would have helped me

Were she not perpetually tired

And at her wits’ end.

I cheated at school

But didn’t pass the school exam.

I grew up as a man

Without reading

Without writing.

I had the gift of the gab though

Throughout my life,

And even bluffed some

Quite a few sometimes.

----------------------------------

ABOUT YOU (Satis Shroff)

To think about you

To long for you

To see you and to love you,

The way you are.

A beautiful blonde face

With well-chiselled Allemanic features

Eyes as blue as the sky,

That look at me

And smile

That disarming

Sympathetic smile.

The closeness that I have felt

The wonderful children we have,

Each with its own character and personality

As they fill the rooms of our home

And our lives

With music from flutes, violins,

Piano and kids’ laptops.

Laughter and tears,

Screams and hurrahs.

Oh, I miss everything

When you are not here.

-----------------

SEPARATION (Satis Shroff)

The first day was cumbersome

For it was fresh in my memory.

The second day Florentin asked:

‘Papa, where is Mama?’

I was at a loss.

How was I to explain

A two-year old,

Where Mama was?

The third day we were relieved

To get cards and descriptions:

Of cows, sheep, horses grazing

In the Norderheide meadows.

Of windmills and the howling

North Sea breeze.

Of a fishing trip in a trawler,

With North Sea fishermen,

Who spoke East Friesian dialect.

Of Husum’s colourful harbour

With Yachts and fisher boats

And a Schifffahrtsmuseum.

Whitewashed houses with red rooftops

Endless blue skies over the horizon,

Interspersed with fluffy clouds.

---------------------------------------

DAY DREAMING (Satis Shroff)

When I lie on my couch,

Which our German grandma

Used to fondly call chaiselongue,

I drink a cup of Ilam tea.

I am so awake

That I kiss your lips,

Caress you,

Listen to you

Speak to you,

After every sip.

About our house and garden

About our dear parents,

Friends, new or old.

It’s a superb idyll we’ve created.

I’m too tired

To open my eyes

To see you and to realise

That you are not here,

In this sunlight flooded room.

WITHOUT YOU (Satis Shroff)

Without you life is nothing

Only the silence,

Die Stille.

The flowers in the garden.

Without you

There’s no joy

In this world.

Without you,

A success or victory

Is nothing.

Without you

I’m dumbfounded

For it is your countenance,

Your sparkling azure eyes

Your sympathetic smile

That make me speak.

Only then do my words

Have a meaning.

Without you

I speak only

With myself,

Or with our small Florentin.

Little Flori longs for you,

And so do I.

You are the queen of our hearts,

Our Mama,

Our Seelenstück,

Who loves us

And now needs repose.

So relax.

Be happy and contented

With the other children.

It’s true that we all need you

And love you,

The way you love us

Without bounds.

Glossary:

Die Stille: silence

Seelenstück: soul

---------------------------------------------------

WHY? (Satis Shroff)

Why do I love you?

Because you love me.

I love you,

And no one else.

I have to love you.

I cannot do otherwise.

And you?

Do you love me,

Because you have to love me,

And no one else?

Perhaps you love me

For I am, the way I am.

And I love you

Because you are

The way you are.

Now we love our children

And the children love us

And we love each other.

Perhaps it was our destiny

To love each other,

As destiny goes.

-------------------------------------------------

I SAW LOVE (Satis Shroff)

One wintry evening I saw love.

She wore glasses

At the university dancing classes.

We danced fox-trot, cha-cha

Then came the rumba.

I looked deep into her sky blue eyes.

Eyes so blue, without a hint of a cloud.

Clear blue eyes,

Like the waters of the Maladives.

A joyous feeling overcame me.

My hormones were out of control.

My cardiac status said ‘tachycardie.’

My lungs began to over-function.

Hyperventilation.

My knees were sagging.

By Jove, I’d fallen in love.

-------------------------------------------

Writer & poet: Satis Shroff is a writer and poet based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction). He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Science in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and Manchester. He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize.

Writing experience: Satis Shroff write regularly for www.Americanchronicle.comand its 21 affiliated newspapers in the USA. He has written two language books on the Nepali language for DSE (Deutsche Stiftung für Entwicklungsdienst) & Horlemannverlag. He has written three 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). He has written many articles in The Rising Nepal, The Christian Science Monitor, the Independent, the Fryburger, Swatantra Biswa (USIS publication, Himal Asia, 3Journal Freiburg, top ten rated poems in www.nepalforum.com(I dream, Oleron, an Unforgettable Isle, A Flight to the Himalayas, Which Witch in Germany?, Fatal Decision, Santa Fe, Nirmala, Between Terror and Ecstasy, The Broken Poet, Himalaya: Menschen und Mythen, A Gurkha Mother, Kathmandu is Nepal, My Nepal, Quo vadis?). Articles, book-reviews and poems in: www.isj.com, www.inso.org. See also www.google& www.yahoounder search: Satis Shroff.

What others have said about the author:

‘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. I 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.’ (Sandra Sigel, Poetess, Germany).

Satis Shroff writes with intelligence, wit and grace. (Bruce Dobler, Senior Fulbright Professor in Creative Writing, University of Pittsburgh).

Wonderful clarity and good details. (Sharon Mc Cartney, Fiddlehead Poetry Journal)

satisle@myway.com