ZEITGEISTLYRIK (Satis Shroff, Freiburg-Kappel)

(c)Flowers from Kappel and my garden and Titisee, a glacial lake in the Black Forest


Sleep, my Lovely (Satis Shroff)



I found you


The way I lost you,


Like a wandering cloud,


On a full moon night.


You were chatting animatedly


With another female medical student.


I saw you,


You saw me.


Was mesmerised


By the sight of you.



You kept on talking


Looked again


Then you smiled,


A broad, sympathetic smile.


Came to me


Said, ‘Hallo!’


With your infectious smile.



We went to a student bar,


Drank a few glasses of Chardonay.


Your were tipsy


I had to bring you to bed.


Your favourite expression was:


‘Süß!’


You found everything


In life sweet,


When you were stoned.



It was all too sweet,


Till you put your mask away,


To reveal what lay beneath.


Pretending to be


What you weren’t.



Your manic depression


Got the better of you.


The sleep therapy


In the Black Forest clinic,


Had helped you only for a while.



I saw you once,


From a street-car window,


Pulling and walking around


With your Bollerwagon,


Your entire belongings,


A blank expression


On your white face.



A drifter in the city,


No, life’s not sweet,


To some.



The last I heard of you was


You’d jumped out of your room


In Freiburg west,


On a gloomy Sunday.


Adieu, my lovely.


I lost you


The way I found you.



* * *



Musings in the Garden (Satis Shroff)



The reassuring ray of the sun


Break through the birch trees.


You stop chewing your bread


With Schwarzwälder speck,


Listen to the birds twittering and chirping,


Singing hymns to the sunrise,


On your spacious terrace.



After the long, icy winter


You enjoy the warmth


Of the glorious lamp of Heaven.


Out in the East,


Below the blue hills,


Where Stegen,


Buchenbach, Oberried


Are nestled,


You discern the sound of cars


Whizzing by like a swarm of hornets.



In the early morning


You’re entranced


By the blue titmice,


Kohlmeise and field sparrows,


Busily chirping and picking


At the sun-flower seeds,


You’ve strewn in the garden


And bird house,


Which dangles from a metal arch,


Where the steps begin.



A flurrying of wings,


Causes the two hares to scurry,


Take refuge on the cobbled terrace,


A warning that the fat cat from the neighbourhood


Is on the prowl in the undergrowth.


As you gaze up on the slope,


You see the sleek Fingerhut


Reaching out for the sun in light-blue glory.



The oval table is decorated


With a flowery cloth.


The aroma of the coffee


Reaches your nostrils,


Mixed with the aromatic smell


Of the Maroccan pepermint.




Glossary:


Fingerhut: digitalis































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