TIGblogs - Satis Shroff

(Sketch© by Satis Shroff)
(A Gurkha in tears after the senseless battles in the foothills of the Himalayas)

Nepalese metaphors: 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 is 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).
*****

HOPE IN THE SHADOW OF THE HIMALAYAS (Satis Shroff)

Hush, an unholy alliance made the rounds,
The political parties and the Maoists are united.
They rattle their sabres no more,
Under Vishnu’s bed of serpents.

Narad brings us good news.
We don’t have to shiver together in angst.
There is hope in the Himalayas.
Hope of a separation of powers,
Hope of free elections,
Hope of fair trials before impartial tribunals,
Hope of amnesty.
We’ll do what Nepalese normally do:
Wait and drink Ilam tea,
And watch the scenario unfurl,
In the shadow of the Himalayas.

Glossary:
Narad: A heavenly messenger mentioned in the Rig-veda, he was a great Rishi, chief of the heavenly musicians who invented the lute.
Vishnu: The second God of the Hindu-triad, preserver and restorer, the supreme being from whom all things emanate.
_____________________

Not in Nepal (Satis Shroff)

Nepalis look out of their ornate windows,
In the west, east, north and south Nepal
And think:
How long will this krieg go on?
How much do we have to suffer?
How many money-lenders, businessmen, civil servants,
Policemen and gurkhas do the Maobadis want to kill
Or be killed?

How many men, women, boys and girls have to be mortally injured
Till Kal Bhairab is pacified by the Sleeping Vishnu?

How many towns and villages in the seventy five districts
Do the Maobadis want to free from capitalism?
When the missionaries close their schools,
Must the Hindus and Buddhists shut their temples and shrines?
Shall atheism be the order of the day?
Not in Nepal.
The religion is too much with us,
Within us.

*****

A THOUSAND DEATHS (Satis Shroff)

It breaks my heart, as I hear over the radio:
Nepal’s not safe for visitors.
Visitors who leave their money behind,
In the pockets of travel agencies, rug dealers,
Currency and drug dealers,
And hordes of ill-paid honest Sherpas
And Tamang and other ethnic porters.
Sweat beads trickling from their sun-burnt faces,
In the dizzy heights of the Dolpo, Annapurna ranges
And the Khumbu glaciers.
Eking out a living and facing the treacherous
Icy crevasses, snow-outs, precipices
And a thousand deaths.

No roads, no schools,
Beyond the beaten trekking paths
Live the poorer families of Nepal.
Sans drinking water,
Sans hospitals,
Where aids and children’s work prevail.

*****

Development and Destruction (Satis Shroff)

My Nepal, what has become of you?
Your features have changed with time.
The innocent face of the Kumari
Has changed to the blood-thirsty countenance
Of Kal Bhairab,
From development to destruction,
From bikas to binas.

You’re no longer the same
There’s insurrection and turmoil
Against the government and the police.
Your sons and daughters are at war,
With the Gurkhas again.

Maobadis with revolutionary flair,
With ideologies from across the Tibetan Plateau and Peru.
Ideologies that have been discredited elsewhere,
Flourish in the Himalayas.
Demanding a revolutionary-tax
From tourists and Nepalese
With brazen, bloody attacks
Fighting for their own rights
And the rights of the bewildered common man.

Well-trained government troops at the orders
Of politicians safe in Kathmandu.
Leaders who despise talks and compromises,
Flex their tongues and muscles,
And let the imported automatic salves speak their deaths.
Ill-armed guerrillas against well-armed Royal Gurkhas
In the foothills of the Himalayas.

******

Child Soldiers (Satis Shroff)

Nepali children have no chance,
But to take sides
To take to arms not knowing the reason
Against whom and why.
The child-soldier gets orders from grown-ups
And the hapless souls open fire.
Hukum is order,
The child-soldier cannot reason why.
Shedding precious human blood,
For causes they both hold high.
Ach, this massacre in the shadow of the Himalayas.

*****

Time Stands Still in Nepal (Satis Shroff)

Globalisation has changed the world fast,
In Nepal time stands still.
The blind beggar at the New Road gate sings:
Lata ko desh ma, gaddha tantheri.
In a land where the tongue-tied live,
The deaf desire to rule.
Oh my Nepal, quo vadis?

The only way to peace and harmony is
By laying aside the arms.
Can Nepal afford to be the bastion
Of a movement and a government
That rides rough-shod over the lives
And rights of fellow Nepalis?

Can’t we learn from the lessons of Afghanistan, Romania,
Poland, East Germany and Iraq?
The Maobadis will be given a chance at the polls,
Like all other democratic parties.
For the Maobadis are Bahuns and Chettris,
Be they Prachanda or Baburam Bhattrai,
Leaders who’d prefer a republican rule
To monarchy in Nepal.

*****

GUNS INSTEAD OF BOOKS (Satis Shroff)

My academic friends have changes sides,
From Mandalay to Congress
From Congress to the Maobadis.
The students from Dolpo and Silgadi.
Dolpo, unforgettable through Peter Mathiessen
In his quest for his inner self,
And his friend George Schaller’s search
For the snow leopard.
The students wrote Marxist verses and acquired volumes
From the embassies in Kathmandu:
Kim Il Sung’s writings, Mao’s red booklet,
Marx’s Das Kapital and Lenin’s works,
And defended socialist ideas
At His Majesty’s Central Hostel in Tahachal.
I see their earnest faces, with guns in their arms,
Instead of books,
Boisterous and ready
To fight to the end
For a cause they cherish
In their frustrated and fiery hearts.

But aren’t these sons of Nepal
Misguided and blinded,
By the seemingly victories of socialism?
Even Gorbachov pleaded for Peristroika,
And Putin admires capitalist Germany,
Its culture and commerce.
Look at the old Soviet Union,
And other East Bloc nations.
They have all swapped sides
And are EU and Nato members.

About the Author: Satis Shroff has written over a period of three decades, what the Germans would call a “Landesumschau,” for his readers with impressions from Freiburg, Venice, Rottweil, Prague, Paris, London, Frankfurt, Basel and Grindelwald. Satis Shroff has worked with The Rising Nepal (Gorkhapatra Sansthan), where he wrote a weekly Science Spot and editorials and commentaries on Nepal’s development, health, wildlife, politics and culture. He also wrote weekly commentaries for Radio Nepal. He has studied Zoology & Geology in Kathmandu, Medicine & Social Science in Freiburg, and Creative Writing under Prof. Bruce Dobler (Pittsburgh University) and Writers Bureau (Manchester). Satis Shroff sees his future as a writer and poet. He was awarded the German Academic Prize. Satis Shroff’s bicultural perspective makes his prose and 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 terms. His true gift is to invent Nepalese metaphors and make them accessible to the West through his prose and poetry. Satis Shroff writes in German & English.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE NEPALESE REALITY (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)

All the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Could not put Nepal together again.

Nepalese men and women
Look out of their ornate windows,
In west, east, north and south Nepal
And think:
A decade long war between the Maoists and Royalists
Has come to an end
We have suffered so much.
So many innocent men, women, boys and girls
Have been slain by bullets,
From both sides.

Kal Bhairab seems to be pacified,
For Vishnu has crept to his bed of serpents.
He peers at the unfurling scenario:
A new interim government,
A new constitution,
More amendments.
He hisses with a sulk:
‘What can they do better than I?’

When aristocrats, chauvinists, egoists and phallocrats
Were in power,
The underprivileged castes and tribes,
Women and children,
Went always with empty hands.
A new revolution and democracy is in the land,
But have the people changed their minds?
Or are they still conscious of their caste, birth and tribe?
Of their earlier prejudices, hatred and malice
Towards the dalits, the have-nots?

Our fervent prayers have been heard.
The people are rejoicing in the streets of Kathmandu.
May there be ‘everlasting’ peace again in Nepal,
Though ‘everlasting peace’ has become inflationary.
Rejoice and take reality as it is.
We have no choice,
But to lay our hopes on the fragile signatures
Of two protagonists,
In the Shadow of the Himalayas.

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

The Lure of the Himalayas (Satis Shroff)

500 years ago near the town of Kashgar,
I, a stranger in local clothes was captured
By the sturdy riders of Vali Khan.
What was a stranger
With fair skin and blue eyes,
Looking for in Vali Khan’s terrain?
I, the stranger spoke a strange tongue.
‘He’s a spy sent by China.
Behead him,’ barked the Khan’s officer.
I pleaded and tried to explain
My mission in their country.
It was all in vain.

On August 26, 1857
I, Adolph Schlagintweit,
a German traveller, an adventurer,
Was beheaded as a spy,
Without a trial.

I was a German who set out on the footsteps
Of the illustrious Alexander von Humboldt,
With my two brothers Hermann and Robert,
From Southhampton on September 20,1854
To see India, the Himalayas and Higher Asia.
The mission of the 29000km journey
Was to make an exact cartography
Of the little known countries,
Sans invitation, I must admit.

In Kamet we reached a 6785m peak,
An elevation record in those days.
We measured the altitudes,
Gathered magnetic, meteorological,
And anthropological data.
We even collected extensive
Botanical, zoological and ethnographic gems.

Hermann and I made 751 sketches,
Drawings, water-colour and oil paintings.
The motifs were Himalayan panoramas,
Single summits, glacier formations,
Himalayan rivers and houses of the natives.
I still see myself and Hermann working
With our pencils, brushes daubed in water-colours and oil,
Trying to capture the colours and perspectives
Of the Himalayas.
Fond memories of Padam valley, near the old moraine
Of the main glacier at Zanskar in pencil and pen.
A view from Gunshankar peak 6023 metres,
From the Trans-Sutlej chain in aquarelle.
A European female in oriental dress in Calcutta 1855.
Brahmin, Rajput and Sudra women draped in saris.
Kristo Prasad, a 35 year old Rajput
Photographed in Benaras.
An old Hindu fakir with knee-long rasta braids,

Bhot women from Ladakh, snapped in Simla.
Kahars, Palki-porters from Bihar,
Hindus of the Sudra caste.
A Lepcha armed with bow and arrows,
In traditional dress up to his calves
And a hat with plume.
Kistositta, a 25 year old Brahmin from Bengal,
Combing the hair of Mungia,
A 43 year old Vaisa woman.
A wandering Muslim minstrel Manglu at Agra,
With his sarangi.
A 31 year old Ram Singh, a Sudra from Benaras,
Playing his Kolebassen flute.
The monsoon,
And thatched Khasi houses at Cherrapunji,
The rainiest place on earth.

The precious documents of our long journey
Can be seen at the Alpine Museum Munich.
Even a letter,
Sent by Robert to our sister Matilde,
Written on November 2, 1866 from Srinagar:
‘We travelled a 200 English mile route,
Without seeing a human being,
Who didn’t belong to our caravan.
Besides our horses, we had camels,
The right ones with two humps,
Which you don’t find in India.
We crossed high glacier passes at 5500m
And crossed treacherous mountain streams.’

My fascination for the Himalayas
Got the better of me.
I had breathed the rare Himalayan air,
And felt like Icarus.
I wanted to fly higher and higher,
Forgetting where I was.
My brothers Hermann and Robert left India
By ship and reached Berlin in June,1857.

I wanted to traverse the continent
Disregarding the dangers,
For von Humboldt was my hero.
Instead of honour and fame,
My body was dragged by fierce riders in the dust,
Although I had long left the world.

My soul had raced with the speed of light to Heaven
A Persian traveller, a Muslim with a heart
Found my headless body.
He brought my remains all the way to India,
Where he handed it to a British colonial officer.

It was a fatal fascination,
But had I the chance,
I’d do it again.

******

MY NEPAL, QUO VADIS? (Satis Shroff)

My Nepal, what has become of you?
Your features have changed with time.
The innocent face of the Kumari
Has changed to the blood-thirsty countenance of Kal Bhairab,
From development to destruction,
From bikas to binas.
A crown prince fell in love,
But couldn’t assert himself,
In a palace where ancient traditions still prevail.
Despite Eton college and a liberal education,
He chose guns instead of rhetoric,
And ended his young life,
As well as those of his parents and other royal members.
An aunt from London aptly remarked,
‘He was like the terminator.’
Another bloodshed in a Gorkha palace,
Recalling the Kot massacre under Jung Bahadur Rana.

You’re no longer the same
There’s insurrection and turmoil
Against the government and the police.
Your sons and daughters are at war,
With the Gurkhas again.

Maobadis with revolutionary flair,
With ideologies from across the Tibetan Plateau and Peru.
Ideologies that have been discredited elsewhere,
Flourish in the Himalayas.
Demanding a revolutionary-tax from tourists and Nepalis
With brazen, bloody attacks
Fighting for their own rights
And the rights of the bewildered common man.

Well-trained government troops at the orders
Of politicians safe in Kathmandu.
Leaders, who despise talks and compromises,
Flex their tongues and muscles,
And let the imported automatic salves speak their deaths.
Ill-armed guerrillas against well-armed Royal Gurkhas
In the foothills of the Himalayas.

Nepali children have no chance, but to take sides
To take to arms not knowing the reason and against whom.
The child-soldier gets orders from grown-ups
And the hapless souls open fire.
Hukum is order, the child-soldier cannot reason why.
Shedding precious human blood,
For causes they both hold high.
Ach, this massacre in the shadow of the Himalayas.
Nepalis look out of their ornate windows,
In the west, east, north and south Nepal
And think:
How long will this krieg go on?
How much do we have to suffer?
How many money-lenders, businessmen, civil servants,
Policemen and gurkhas do the Maobadis want to kill
Or be killed?
How many men, women, boys and girls have to be mortally injured
Till Kal Bhairab is pacified by the Sleeping Vishnu?
How many towns and villages in the seventy five districts
Do the Maobadis want to free from capitalism?
When the missionaries close their schools,
Must the Hindus and Buddhists shut their temples and shrines?
Shall atheism be the order of the day?
Not in Nepal.

It breaks my heart, as I hear over the radio:
Nepal’s not safe for visitors.
Visitors who leave their money behind,
In the pockets of travel agencies, rug dealers, currency and drug dealers,
And hordes of ill-paid honest Sherpas and Tamang porters.
Sweat beads trickling from their sun-burnt faces,
In the dizzy heights of the Dolpo, Annapurna ranges
And the Khumbu glaciers.
Eking out a living and facing the treacherous
Icy crevasses, snow-outs, precipices
And a thousand deaths.

Beyond the beaten trekking paths
Live the poorer families of Nepal.
No roads, no schools,
Sans drinking water and sans hospitals,
Where aids and children’s work prevail.

Lichhavis, Thakuris and Mallas have made you eternal
Man Deva inscribed his title on the pillar of Changu,
After great victories over neighbouring states.
Amshu Verma was a warrior and mastered the Lichavi Code.
He gave his daughter in marriage to Srong Beean Sgam Po,
The ruler of Tibet, who also married a Chinese princess.
Jayastathi Malla ruled long and introduced the system of the caste,
A system based on the family occupation,
That became rigid with the tide of time.
Yaksha Malla the ruler of Kathmandu Valley,
Divided it into Kathmandu, Patan and Bhadgaon for his three sons.

It was Prithvi Narayan Shah of Gorkha,
Who brought you together,
As a melting pot of ethnic diversities.
With Gorkha conquests that cost the motherland
Thousands of ears, noses and Nepali blood

The Ranas usurped the royal throne
And put a prime minister after the other for 104 years.
104 years of a country in poverty and medieval existence.
It was King Tribhuvan’s proclamation and the blood of the Nepalis,
Who fought against the Gorkhas under the command of the Ranas,
That ended the Rana autocracy.
His son King Mahendra saw to it that he held the septre
When Nepal entered the UNO.
The multiparty system along with the Congress party was banned.

Then came thirty years of Panchayat promises of a Hindu rule
With a system based on the five village elders,
Like the proverbial five fingers in one’s hand,
That are not alike and yet functioned in harmony.
The Panchayat government was indeed an old system,
Packed and sold as a new and traditional one.
A system is just as good as the people who run it.
And Nepal didn’t run.
It revived the age-old chakary,
Feudalism with its countless spies and yes-men,
Middle-men who held out their hands
For bribes, perks and amenities.
Poverty, caste-system with its divisions and conflicts,
Discrimination, injustice, bad governance
Became the nature of the day.

A big chasm appeared between the haves-and-have-nots.
The social inequality, frustrated expectations of the poor
Led to a search for an alternative pole.
The farmers were ignored, the forests and land confiscated,
Corruption and inefficiency became the rule of the day.
Even His Majesty’s servants went so far as to say:
Raja ko kam, kahiley jahla gham.

The birthplace of Buddha
And the Land of Pashupati,
A land which King Birendra declared a Zone of Peace,
Through signatures of the world’s leaders
Is at war today.

Bush’s government paid 24 million dollars for development aid,
Another 14 million dollars for insurgency relevant spendings
5,000 M-16 rifles from the USA
5,500 maschine guns from Belgium.
Guns that are aimed at Nepali men, women and children,
In the mountains of Nepal.
Alas, under the shade of the Himalayas,
This corner of the world has become volatile again.

My academic friends have changes sides,
From Mandalay to Congress
From Congress to the Maobadis.
From Hinduism to Communism.
The students from Dolpo and Silgadi,
Made unforgettable by Peter Mathiessen in his quest for his inner self
And his friend George Schaller’s search for the snow leopard,
Wrote Marxist verses and acquired volumes
From the embassies in Kathmandu:
Kim Il Sung’s writings, Mao’s red booklet,
Marx’s Das Kapital and Lenin’s works,
And defended socialist ideas
At His Majesty’s Central Hostel in Tahachal.
I see their earnest faces, then with books in their arms
Now with guns and trigger-happy,
Boisterous and ready to fight to the end
For a cause they cherish in their frustrated and fiery hearts.

But aren’t these sons of Nepal misguided and blinded
By the seemingly victories of socialism?
Even Gorbachov pleaded for Peristroika,
And Putin admires Germany, its culture and commerce.
Look at the old Soviet Union, and other East Bloc nations.
They have all swapped sides and are EU and Nato members.
Globalisation has changed the world fast,
But in Nepal time stands still
The blind beggar at the New Road gate sings:
Lata ko desh ma, gaddha tantheri.
In a land where the tongue-tied live,
The deaf desire to rule.
Oh my Nepal, quo vadis?

The only way to peace and harmony is
By laying aside the arms.
Can Nepal afford to be the bastion of a movement and a government
That rides rough-shod over the lives and rights of fellow Nepalis?
Can’t we learn from the lessons of Afghanistan and Iraq?
The Maobadis must be given a chance at the polls,
Like all other democratic parties.
Time will tell us whether they can integrate
In Nepal or not.
I have hope,
For the Maobadis are bahuns and chettris,
Be they Prachanda or Baburam Bhattrai,
Leaders who are Nepalese.
The game of bagh-chal goes on,
For Vishnu no longer holds,
The executive, judiciary, legislative,
Spiritual and temporal powers
In the shadow of the Himalayas.

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

A GURKHA MOTHER (Satis Shroff)
(Death of a Precious Jewel)

The gurkha with a khukri
But no enemy
Works for the United Nations
And yet gets shot at
In missions he doesn't comprehend.
Order is hukum, hukum is life
Johnny Gurkha still dies under foreign skies.

He never asks why
Politics isn't his style
He's fought against all and sundry:
Turks, Tibetans, Italians and Indians
Germans, Japanese, Chinese
Argentenians and Vietnamese.
Indonesians and Iraqis.
Loyalty to the utmost
Never fearing a loss.

The loss of a mother's son
From the mountains of Nepal.

Her grandpa died in Burma
For the glory of the British.
Her husband in Mesopotemia
She knows not against whom
No one did tell her.
Her brother fell in France,
Against the Teutonic hordes.
She prays to Shiva of the Snows for peace
And her son's safety.
Her joy and her hope
Farming on a terraced slope.

A son who helped wipe her tears
And ease the pain in her mother's heart.
A frugal mother who lives by the seasons
And peers down to the valleys
Year in and year out
In expectation of her soldier son.

A smart Gurkha is underway
Heard from across the hill with a shout
'It’s an officer from his battalion.
A letter with a seal and a poker-face
"Your son died on duty", he says,
"Keeping peace for the country
And the United Nations".

A world crumbles down
The Nepalese mother cannot utter a word
Gone is her son,
Her precious jewel.
Her only insurance and sunshine
In the craggy hills of Nepal.
And with him her dreams
A spartan life that kills.

Glossary:
gurkha: soldier from Nepal
Johnny Gurkha: Eine Bezeichnung für die Nepalis die in Englands Gurkha Einheiten (z.B. King Edward’s Own Gurkha Rifles) dienen. Sie leisten auch heute noch ihren Eid auf die britische Königin und ziehen u. a. vor dem Buckingham Palast als Ehrenwache auf. Britische Gurkhas dienten in Malaysia, Indonesien (Borneo), Hongkong, Brunei, Zypern und neuerdings auch in Kosovo.
khukri: curved knife used in hand-to-hand combat
hukum: Befehl/command/order
shiva: a god in Hinduism
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE NEPALESE REALITY (Satis Shroff)

All the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Could not put Nepal together again.

Nepalese men and women
Look out of their ornate windows,
In west, east, north and south Nepal
And think:
A decade long war between the Maoists and Royalists
Has come to an end
We have suffered so much.
So many innocent men, women, boys and girls
Have been slain by bullets,
From both sides.

Kal Bhairab seems to be pacified,
For Vishnu has crept to his bed of serpents.
He peers at the unfurling scenario:
A new interim government,
A new constitution,
More amendments.
He hisses with a sulk:
‘What can they do better than I?’

When aristocrats, chauvinists, egoists and phallocrats
Were in power,
The underprivileged castes and tribes,
Women and children,
Went always with empty hands.
A new revolution and democracy is in the land,
But have the people changed their minds?
Or are they still conscious of their caste, birth and tribe?
Of their earlier prejudices, hatred and malice
Towards the dalits, the have-nots?

Our fervent prayers have been heard.
The people are rejoicing in the streets of Kathmandu.
May there be ‘everlasting’ peace again in Nepal,
Though ‘everlasting peace’ has become inflationary.
We have no choice,
But to lay our hopes on the fragile signatures
Of two protagonists,
In the Shadow of the Himalayas.
Rejoice and take reality as it is.

[لريكس] على حرب من ال [هيملس] ([ستيس] [شروفّ])
Automatically translated into Arabic thanks to WorldLingo
([سكتش] ب [ستيس] [شروفّ])
([غركها] في دموع بعد المعارك [سنسلسّ] في التلّ سفحيّ من ال [هيملس])

[نبلس] استعارات: يكتب [ستيس] [شروفّ] شعر سياسيّة: حول الحرب في نيبال, القدر حزينة من [نبلس] الناس, الظهور ال [نيو-فسكيسم] في ألمانيا. يجعل منظورته مزدوج ثقافة ه قصائد أغنياء, يشبع من رعب و [أت ث سم تيم] [هرتبركينغلي] حزينة. في كتابة `بيتيّ,' يرجع هو ليس فحسب إلى [كونتري وف وريجن] ه تكرارا, هو أيضا يحمل القدر من الناسه إلى قارئات في الالغرب, ومهمته الكتابة جدّا مهمّة واحدة في عبارات سياسيّة. ه يصحّ هبة أن يخترع [نبلس] استعارات وجعلتهم يتيسّر إلى الالغرب من خلال شعره. ([سندرا] [سجل], [بوتسّ], ألمانيا).
*****

أملت في الخيالة من ال [هيملس] ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

يسكت, تحالف آثمة يجعل الدورات,
الأحزاب سياسيّة وال [مويستس] وحّدت.
هم يجلجلون [سبرس] هم [نو مور],
تحت [فيشنو] سرير حيّة.

[نرد] يحضرنا أخبار جيّدة.
نحن لا يضطرّ رجفت معا في [أنغست].
هناك أمل في ال [هيملس].
أمل من فصل القوى,
أمل من إنتخابات حرّة,
أمل من محاكمات عادلة قبل محاكم متجرّدة,
أمل القرار.
نحن سنتمّ ماذا [نبلس] عادة يتمّ:
إنتظار وشراب [إيلم] يراقب شاي,
والسيناريو [أونفورل],
في الخيالة من ال [هيملس].

معجم:
[نرد]: رسول مبهجة يذكر في ال [ريغ-فدا], كان هو [ريشي] عظيمة, رئيس من الموسيقيات مبهجة الذي اخترع الملاط مانع للتسرّب.
[فيشنو]: الثاني إلهة من ال [هيندو-تريد], [برسرفر] و [رستورر], الكائن عليا من الّذي كلّ أشياء ينبعث.
يفكّر _____________________

لا في نيبال ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

[نبليس] نظرة من نافذاتهم منمّقة,
في الالغرب, شرقيّة, شمال ونيبال
جنوبيّة و:
[هوو لونغ] هذا [كريغ] سيذهب فوق?
كم نحن يضطرّ عانيت?
[هوو مني] [مون-لندرس], رجل أعمال, [سفيل سرفنت],
شرطيات و [غركهس] [موبديس] يريد أن يقتل
أو كنت قتلت?

[هوو مني] رجال, نساء, فتية وبنات يضطرّ كنت [مورتلّي] جرحت
حتّى هدّأت [كل] [بهيرب] ب ال ينام [فيشنو]?

[هوو مني] مدائن وقرى في ال [سفنتي فيف] مناطق
[موبديس] يريد أن يحرّر من رأسماليّة?
متى المبشرات يغلقون مدارسهم,
ينبغي ال [هيندو] و [بودّهيست] أغلقت هم هياكل و [شرين]?
سوفت إلحاد كنت ال [أردر وف ث دي]?
لا في نيبال.
الدين [توو موش] مع نا,
ضمن نا.

*****

ألف موت ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

يكسر هو قلبي, بما أنّ أنا أسمع على الراديو:
نيبال لا آمنة لزائرات.
زائرات الذي تركت مالهم خلف,
في الجيب ال [ترفل جنسي], دثار بائعات,
عملة و [دروغ دلر],
وحشود من [إيلّ-بيد] صادقة [شربس]
و [تمنغ] وأخرى حمالات عرقيّة.
عرقت خرز ينضّ من وجههم [سون-بورنت],
في الإرتفاعات مصاب بدوار من [دولبو], [أنّبورنا] مدى
[كهومبو] نهر جليديّ.
[إكينغ] خارجا معيشة وتخريج الأخاديد خائنة
جليديّة, [سنوو-ووتس], أجراف
وألف موت.

ما من يعيش طرق, ما من مدارس,
إلى ما بعد ال يضرب يسير ممرات
الأسرات فقيرة نيبال.
[سنس] [درينك وتر],
[سنس] مستشفيات,
حيث [أيدس] وأطفال عمل يسودون.

*****

قد أصبح تطوير وتدمير ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

نيبال ي, ماذا من أنت?
قد غيّر سماتك مع وقت.
قد غيّر الوجه بريئة من [كومري]
إلى ال [كونتننس]
[بلوود-ثيرستي] [كل] [بهيرب],
من تطوير إلى تدمير,
من [بيكس] إلى [بينس].

أنت [نو لونجر] ال نفس
هناك تمرد وإضطراب
ضدّ الحكومة والشرطة.
ك بنات وابنة في حرب,
مع ال [غركهس] ثانية.

[موبديس] مع حاسّة تمييز ثوريّة,
مع مذاهب [فروم كروسّ] التيبتيّ نجد وبيرو.
يزدهر مذاهب أنّ يتلقّى يكون شوّهت في مكان آخر,
في ال [هيملس].
يطلب [رفولوأيشنر-تإكس]
من سائحات و [نبلس]
مع نحاسيّة, هجوم
دام يتنازع ل هم خاصّة حقوق
والحقوق من ال يربك رجل عاديّة.

يحتشد حكومة [ولّ-تريند] في الأوامر
السياسيات آمنة في كاتمندو.
ترك زعيمات الذي [دسبيز] محادثات وحلّ وسط,
يثنّي هم ألسن وعضلات,
وال يستورد مراهم آليّة تكلّمت موتهم.
[غرّيلّا] [إيلّ-رمد] ضدّ [ولّ-رمد] [غركهس]
ملكيّة في التلّ سفحيّ من ال [هيملس].

******

طفلة جنديات ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

[نبلي] يتلقّى أطفال ما من فرصة,
غير أنّ أن يأخذ جوانب
إلى لقطة إلى [أرمس] لا يعرف السبب
ضدّ الّذي ولما.
يحصل ال [شلد-سلدير] أوامر من [غروون-وبس]
والأرواح تعس يفتحون نار.
[هوكوم] أمر,
ال [شلد-سلدير] يستطيع لا يرشّد لماذا.
استغناء عن دم ثمينة إنسانيّة,
لأسباب يمسك هما إرتفاع.
[أش], هذا مذبحة في الخيالة من ال [هيملس].

*****

وقت قد غيّر حامل قفص بعد في نيبال ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

[غلوبليسأيشن] العالم سريعا,
في نيبال وقت حامل قفص بعد.
يغنّى المتسولة عمياء في الجديدة طريق بوابة:
[لتا] [كو] [دش] [ما], [غدّها] [تنثري].
في أرض حيث ال [تونغ-تيد] حيّة,
الرغبة صمّاء أن يحكم.
[أه] نيبال ي, [قوو] [فديس]?

الطريق وحيدة إلى سلام وإنسجام
ب يضع على حدة ال [أرمس].
يستطيع نيبال أمكنت أن يكون الحصن
من حركة وحكومة
أنّ يركب [رووغ-شود] على الحيوات
وحقوق الرفيقة [نبليس]?

يستطيع لا نحن علمت من الدروس من أفغانستان, رومانيا,
بولندا, [إست جرمني] والعراق?
سيعطي [موبديس] كنت فرصة في العمليّة تصويت,
مثل كلّ أخرى أحزاب ديموقراطيّة.
ل [موبديس] [بهونس] و [شتّريس],
هم [برشندا] أو [ببورم] [بهتّري],
زعيمات الذي' [د] يفضّل قاعدة
جمهوريّة إلى مملكة في نيبال.

*****

يتلقّى مسدّس مدفع [إينستد وف] كتب ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

صديقاتي أكاديميّة تغيرات جوانب,
من [مندلي] إلى إجتماع
من إجتماع إلى [موبديس].
الطالبات من [دولبو] و [سلغدي].
[دولبو], بيتر غير منسيّ مباشرة [مثيسّن]
في بحره لنفسه داخليّة,
وه صديقة جورج [سكهلّر] بحر
للثلج نمر.
كتب الطالبات بيت شعر ماركسيّة واكتسب حجوم
من السفارات في كاتمندو:
[كيم] [إيل] [سونغ'س] كتابات, [مو] كراس حمراء,
ماركس [دس] [كبيتل] و [لنين] أعمال,
ويدافع أفكار
اشتراكيّة في عظمته نزل مركزية في [تهشل].
أنا أرى وجههم جادّة, مع مسدّس مدفع في [أرمس] هم,
[إينستد وف] كتب,
صاخبة ويتأهّب
أن يتنازع إلى النهاية
لسبب هم يدلّلون
في هم يثبّط وقلوب ناريّة.

غير أنّ ليسوا هذا بنات نيبال
خاطئة ويعمى,
ب ال على ما يبدو نصرة الاشتراكيّة?
حتّى يعجب [غربشف] يترافع ل [بريسترويكا],
وبوتين رأسمالية ألمانيا,
ثقافته وتجارة.
نظرت في [سفيت ونيون] قديمة,
وأخرى شرقيّة كتلة أمم.
هم يتلقّون كلّ يقايض جوانب
والاتّحاد الأوروبي ومنظّمة حلف شمال الأطلسي أعضاء.

حول المؤلفة: قد كتب [ستيس] [شروفّ] [أفر ا بريود وف] ثلاثة عقود, ماذا الألمانيات دعاوا "[لندسومسكهو]," لقارئاته مع إنطباعات من [فريبورغ], بندقيّة, [روتّويل], براغ, باريس, لندن, فرانكفورت, بال و [غريندلولد]. قد عمل [ستيس] [شروفّ] مع ال يرتفع نيبال ([غركهبترا] [سنسثن]), حيث هو كتب أسبوعيّة علم بقعة وافتتاحيّات وتعليقات على نيبال تطوير, صحة, حيوان برّيّ, سياسة وثقافة. هو أيضا كتب تعليقات أسبوعيّة لنيبال لاسلكيّة. هو قد درس علم الحيوانات & جيولوجية في كاتمندو, الطبّ & [سسل سكينس] في [فريبورغ], وكتابة مبتكرة تحت [بروف.]. [بروس] [دوبلر] ([بيتّسبور] جامعة) وكاتبات مكتب (مانشستر). يرى [ستيس] [شروفّ] مستقبله ككاتبة وشاعرة. هو كان منحت الجائزة ألمانيّة أكاديميّة. [ستيس] [شروفّ] يجعل منظورة مزدوج ثقافة ه نثر وقصائد أغنياء, يشبع من رعب, و [أت ث سم تيم] [هرتبركينغلي] حزينة. في كتابة `بيتيّة,' يرجع هو ليس فحسب إلى [كونتري وف وريجن] ه تكرارا, هو أيضا يحمل القدر من الناسه إلى قارئات في الالغرب, ومهمته الكتابة جدّا مهمّة واحدة في عبارات سياسيّة. ه يصحّ هبة أن يخترع [نبلس] استعارات وجعلتهم يتيسّر إلى الالغرب من خلال ه نثر وشعر. يكتب [ستيس] [شروفّ] في ألمانيّة & إنجليزيّة.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ال [نبلس] حقيقة ([ستيس] [شروفّ], [فريبورغ])

[ألّ ث] ملك حصان حجر السّامة
و [ألّ ث] ملك رجال
استطاع لم يضع نيبال معا ثانية.

[نبلس] ينظر رجال ونساء
من نافذاتهم منمّقة,
في الغرب, شرقيّة, شمال ونيبال
جنوبيّة ويفكّر:
عقد قد أتى حرب طويلة بين ال [مويستس] و [روليستس]
إلى نهاية
نحن قد عانينا كثيرا.
هكذا كثير بريئة ذبحت رجال, نساء, فتى وبنات
يتلقّى يكون برصاصات,
من كلا جوانب.

يبدو [كل] [بهيرب] أن يكون هدّأت,
لأنّ [فيشنو] قد زحف إلى سريره حيّة.
هو أنعم النّظر في ال [أونفورل] سيناريو:
جديدة أثناء حكومة,
[ا] دستور جديدة,
كثير تعديلات.
هو يهسّ مع عبوس:
`ماذا يستطيع يحسن هم من أنا?'

عندما كان أرستقراطيات, [شوفينيستس], [إغيست] و [فلّوكرتس]
في قوة,
ال [أوندربريفيلجد] طوائف وقبائل,
نساء وأطفال,
ذهب دائما مع يخلو أيادي.
جديدة ثورة وديموقراطيّة يكونون في الأرض,
غير أنّ يتلقّى الالناس يغيّر عقولهم?
أو يكونون هم سكون واعية من هم طائفة, ولادة وقبيلة?
من هم مبكّرة أضرار, كراهية وخبث
نحو ال [دليتس], ال [هف-نوتس]?

سمعت صلواتنا متحمّسة يتلقّى يكون.
يفرح الالناس في الشوارع كاتمندو.
يمكن هناك كنت `[إفرلستينغ]' سلام ثانية في نيبال [, ثوو]
`سلام [إفرلستينغ]' قد أصبح تضخّميّة.
أفرحت وأخذت حقيقة بما أنّ هو يكون.
نحن نتلقّى ما من إختبار,
غير أنّ أن يكذب أملنا على التواقيع
هشّة من اثنان زعيمات,
في الخيالة من ال [هيملس].

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

الطعم من ال [هيملس] ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

500 سنون [أغو] قرب المدينة [كشغر],
على قبض
أنا, غريبة في ملابس محلّية كان بالركاب متينة [فلي] [كهن].
ماذا كان غريبة
مع عادلة جلد واللون الأزرق أعين,
يفتّش في [فلي] [كهن] أرض?
تكلّم [إي], الغريبة لسان غريبة.
`هو جاسوس يرسل بالصين.
ضربته,' نبح [كهن] ضابطة.
أنا ترافعت وحاول أن يفسّر
مهمتي في بلدهم.
هو كان كلّ في تافهة.

في أغسطس - آب 26, 1857
ضربت أنا, [أدولف] [سكهلجنتويت],
مسافرة ألمانيّة, مغامرة,
كان كجاسوس,
دون محاكمة.

أنا كنت ألمانية الذي أبدى على الخطوات
من إسكندر شهيرة [فون] [هومبولدت],
مع ي اثنان إخوان [هرمنّ] وروبرت,
من [سوثهمبتون] في سبتمبر - أيلول 20,1854
أن يرى هند, ال [هيملس] وآسيا [هيغر].
المهمة من ال [29000كم] سفر
كان أن يجعل علم رسم الخرائط
دقيقة من الصغيرة يعرف بلاد,
[سنس] دعوة, أنا ينبغي اعترفت.

في [كمت] بلغ نحن [6785م] قمة,
إرتفاع سجل في أنّ أيام.
نحن قسنا الإرتفاعات,
يجمع مغنطيسيّة, [متيورولوجك],
ومعطيات متعلّقة.
نحن حتّى جمعنا واسعة
نباتيّة, حيوانيّة وجواهر [إثنوغرفيك].

جعل [هرمنّ] وأنا 751 رسم تخطيطيّ,
رسوم, [وتر-كلوور] و [أيل بينتينغ].
كان الالحافز منظر شامل [هيملن],
قمة وحيد, نهر جليديّ تشكيلات,
نهور [هيملن] ومنازل من الساكن محلّيّ.
أنا بعد أرى بنفسي و [هرمنّ] يعمل
مع أقلامنا, فراش يطيّن في [وتر-كلوورس] وزيت,
يحاول أن على قبض اللول و [برسبكتيفس]
من ال [هيملس].
ذاكرات أثيرة من [بدم] واد, قرب الركام جليديّ
قديمة من النهر جليديّ رئيسيّة في [زنسكر] في قلم وقلم.
منظرة من [غنشنكر] قمة 6023 أمتار,
من ال [ترنس-سوتلج] سلسلة في رسم مائيّ.
أنثى أوروبيّة في ثوب شرقيّة في كلكوتا 1855.
[برهمين], [رجبوت] و [سودرا] كسا نساء في [سريس].
صوّر [كريستو] [برسد], 35 [ير-ولد] [رجبوت]
في [بنرس].
درويشة قديمة [هيندو] مع [ني-لونغ] [رستا] جدل,

[بهوت] نساء من [لدكه], يقدح في [سملا].
[كهرس], [بلكي-بورترس] من [بيهر],
[هيندو] من [سودرا] طائفة.
يضع
[لبش] يسلّح مع إنحناء وسهام,
في ثوب تقليديّة حتّى خاصّتي وقبعة مع ريشة.
[كيستوستّا], 25 [ير-ولد] [برهمين] من بنغال,
يمشّط الشعر [مونجا],
[ا] 43 [ير-ولد] [فيسا] إمرأة.
يتجوّل [مينسترل] مسلمة [منغلو] في [أغرا],
مع [سرنج] ه.
31 [ير-ولد] مطرقة [سن], [سودرا] من [بنرس],
يلعب ه [كولبسّن] خدة.
الريح موسميّة,
و [ثتشد] [كهس] منازل في [شرّبونجي],
المكان ممطرة على أرض.

الوثائق ثمينة من سفرنا
طويلة يستطيع كنت رأيت في المتحف ألبيّة ميونيخ.
حتّى حرف,
يرسل بروبرت إلى أختنا [متيلد],
يكتب في نوفمبر - تشرين الثّاني 2, 1866 من سرينغار:
`سافر نحن 200 اللغة الانجليزية ميل طريق,
دون يرى كائن إنسانيّة,
الذي لم ينتسب إلى عربت سكنيّةنا.
فضلا عن حصان حجر السّامتنا, تلقّى نحن جمال,
ال يصحّ أحد مع اثنان حدبة,
أيّ أنت لا تجد في هند.
نحن عبرنا عال نهر جليديّ ممرات في [5500م]
وعبر خائنة جبل تيارات.'

حصل فتنتي ل ال [هيملس]
الجيّدة من ي.
أنا كنت قد تنفّست الهواء نادرة [هيملن],
و [فلت] مثل [إيكروس].
أنا أردت أن يطير [هيغر] و [هيغر],
ينسى حيث أنا كنت.
ترك إخواني [هرمنّ] وروبرت هند
بسفينة وبلغ برلين في يونيو - حزيران, 1857.

أنا أردت أن يجتاز القارّ
[ديسرغردينغ] الأخطار,
لأنّ كان [فون] [هومبولدت] بطلي.
[إينستد وف] شرف وشهرة,
جررت جسمي كان بركاب عنيفة في الغبار,
رغم أنّ أنا تلقّيت يسار طويلة العالم.

كان روحي قد تسابق مع ال [سبيد وف ليغت] إلى سماء
مسافرة فارسيّ, [موسليم] مع قلب
أسّس جسمي بدون رأس.
هو أحضر ي أثر [ألّ ث] طريق إلى هند,
حيث هو ناول هو إلى ضابطة بريطانيّة مستعمرة.

هو كان فتنة مميتة,
غير أنّ تلقّى أنا الفرصة,
أنا أتمّ هو ثانية.

******

نيبال ي, [قوو] [فديس]? ([ستيس] [شروفّ])

قد أصبح نيبال ي, ماذا من أنت?
قد غيّر سماتك مع وقت.
قد غيّر الوجه بريئة من [كومري]
إلى ال [كونتننس] [بلوود-ثيرستي] [كل] [بهيرب],
من تطوير إلى تدمير,
من [بيكس] إلى [بينس].
[كروون برينس] [فلّ] في حالة حبّ,
غير أنّ استطاع لم يؤكّدبنفسي,
في قصر حيث تقاليد قديمة بعد يسودون.
على الرغم من [إتون] كلية وتربية ليبراليّ,
اختار هو مسدّس مدفع [إينستد وف] بلاغة,
وأنهى حياته شابّة,
[أس ولّ س] أنّ من والده وأخرى أعضاء ملكيّة.
لاحظ عمّة من لندن بشكل مناسب,
`هو كان مثل المنهي. '
آخر مذبح في [غركها] قصر,
يتذكّر [كوت] مذبحة تحت [جونغ] [بهدور] [رنا].

أنت [نو لونجر] ال نفس
هناك تمرد وإضطراب
ضدّ الحكومة والشرطة.
ك بنات وابنة في حرب,
مع ال [غركهس] ثانية.

[موبديس] مع حاسّة تمييز ثوريّة,
مع مذاهب [فروم كروسّ] التيبتيّ نجد وبيرو.
يزدهر مذاهب أنّ يتلقّى يكون شوّهت في مكان آخر,
في ال [هيملس].
يطلب [رفولوأيشنر-تإكس] من سائحات و [نبليس]
مع نحاسيّة, هجوم
دام يتنازع ل هم خاصّة حقوق
والحقوق من ال يربك رجل عاديّة.

يحتشد حكومة [ولّ-تريند] في الأوامر
السياسيات آمنة في كاتمندو.
يثنّي زعيمات, الذي [دسبيز] محادثات وحلّ وسط,
هم ألسن وعضلات,
ويترك ال يستورد مراهم آليّة تكلّمت موتهم.
[غرّيلّا] [إيلّ-رمد] ضدّ [ولّ-رمد] [غركهس]
ملكيّة في التلّ سفحيّ من ال [هيملس].

[نبلي] يتلقّى أطفال ما من فرصة, غير أنّ أن يأخذ جوانب
إلى لقطة إلى [أرمس] لا يعرف السبب وضدّ من.
يحصل ال [شلد-سلدير] أوامر من [غروون-وبس]
والأرواح تعس يفتحون نار.
[هوكوم] أمر, ال [شلد-سلدير] يستطيع لا يرشّد لماذا.
استغناء عن دم ثمينة إنسانيّة,
لأسباب يمسك هما إرتفاع.
[أش], هذا مذبحة في الخيالة من ال [هيملس].
[نبليس] يفكّر نظرة من نافذاتهم منمّقة,
في الالغرب, شرقيّة, شمال ونيبال
جنوبيّة و:
[هوو لونغ] هذا [كريغ] سيذهب فوق?
كم نحن يضطرّ عانيت?
[هوو مني] [مون-لندرس], رجل أعمال, [سفيل سرفنت],
شرطيات و [غركهس] [موبديس] يريد أن يقتل
أو كنت قتلت?
[هوو مني] رجال, نساء, فتية وبنات يضطرّ كنت [مورتلّي] جرحت
حتّى هدّأت [كل] [بهيرب] ب ال ينام [فيشنو]?
[هوو مني] مدائن وقرى في ال [سفنتي فيف] مناطق
[موبديس] يريد أن يحرّر من رأسماليّة?
متى المبشرات يغلقون مدارسهم,
ينبغي ال [هيندو] و [بودّهيست] أغلقت هم هياكل و [شرين]?
Shall atheism be the order of the day?
Not in Nepal.

It breaks my heart, as I hear over the radio:
Nepal’s not safe for visitors.
Visitors who leave their money behind,
In the pockets of travel agencies, rug dealers, currency and drug dealers,
And hordes of ill-paid honest Sherpas and Tamang porters.
Sweat beads trickling from their sun-burnt faces,
In the dizzy heights of the Dolpo, Annapurna ranges
And the Khumbu glaciers.
Eking out a living and facing the treacherous
Icy crevasses, snow-outs, precipices
And a thousand deaths.

Beyond the beaten trekking paths
Live the poorer families of Nepal.
No roads, no schools,
Sans drinking water and sans hospitals,
Where aids and children’s work prevail.

Lichhavis, Thakuris and Mallas have made you eternal
Man Deva inscribed his title on the pillar of Changu,
After great victories over neighbouring states.
Amshu Verma was a warrior and mastered the Lichavi Code.
He gave his daughter in marriage to Srong Beean Sgam Po,
The ruler of Tibet, who also married a Chinese princess.
Jayastathi Malla ruled long and introduced the system of the caste,
A system based on the family occupation,
That became rigid with the tide of time.
Yaksha Malla the ruler of Kathmandu Valley,
Divided it into Kathmandu, Patan and Bhadgaon for his three sons.

It was Prithvi Narayan Shah of Gorkha,
Who brought you together,
As a melting pot of ethnic diversities.
With Gorkha conquests that cost the motherland
Thousands of ears, noses and Nepali blood

The Ranas usurped the royal throne
And put a prime minister after the other for 104 years.
104 years of a country in poverty and medieval existence.
It was King Tribhuvan’s proclamation and the blood of the Nepalis,
Who fought against the Gorkhas under the command of the Ranas,
That ended the Rana autocracy.
His son King Mahendra saw to it that he held the septre
When Nepal entered the UNO.
The multiparty system along with the Congress party was banned.

Then came thirty years of Panchayat promises of a Hindu rule
With a system based on the five village elders,
Like the proverbial five fingers in one’s hand,
That are not alike and yet functioned in harmony.
The Panchayat government was indeed an old system,
Packed and sold as a new and traditional one.
A system is just as good as the people who run it.
And Nepal didn’t run.
It revived the age-old chakary,
Feudalism with its countless spies and yes-men,
Middle-men who held out their hands
For bribes, perks and amenities.
Poverty, caste-system with its divisions and conflicts,
Discrimination, injustice, bad governance
Became the nature of the day.

A big chasm appeared between the haves-and-have-nots.
The social inequality, frustrated expectations of the poor
Led to a search for an alternative pole.
The farmers were ignored, the forests and land confiscated,
Corruption and inefficiency became the rule of the day.
Even His Majesty’s servants went so far as to say:
Raja ko kam, kahiley jahla gham.

The birthplace of Buddha
And the Land of Pashupati,
A land which King Birendra declared a Zone of Peace,
Through signatures of the world’s leaders
Is at war today.

Bush’s government paid 24 million dollars for development aid,
Another 14 million dollars for insurgency relevant spendings
5,000 M-16 rifles from the USA
5,500 maschine guns from Belgium.
Guns that are aimed at Nepali men, women and children,
In the mountains of Nepal.
Alas, under the shade of the Himalayas,
This corner of the world has become volatile again.

My academic friends have changes sides,
From Mandalay to Congress
From Congress to the Maobadis.
From Hinduism to Communism.
The students from Dolpo and Silgadi,
Made unforgettable by Peter Mathiessen in his quest for his inner self
And his friend George Schaller’s search for the snow leopard,
Wrote Marxist verses and acquired volumes
From the embassies in Kathmandu:
Kim Il Sung’s writings, Mao’s red booklet,
Marx’s Das Kapital and Lenin’s works,
And defended socialist ideas
At His Majesty’s Central Hostel in Tahachal.
I see their earnest faces, then with books in their arms
Now with guns and trigger-happy,
Boisterous and ready to fight to the end
For a cause they cherish in their frustrated and fiery hearts.

But aren’t these sons of Nepal misguided and blinded
By the seemingly victories of socialism?
Even Gorbachov pleaded for Peristroika,
And Putin admires Germany, its culture and commerce.
Look at the old Soviet Union, and other East Bloc nations.
They have all swapped sides and are EU and Nato members.
Globalisation has changed the world fast,
But in Nepal time stands still
The blind beggar at the New Road gate sings:
Lata ko desh ma, gaddha tantheri.
In a land where the tongue-tied live,
The deaf desire to rule.
Oh my Nepal, quo vadis?

The only way to peace and harmony is
By laying aside the arms.
Can Nepal afford to be the bastion of a movement and a government
That rides rough-shod over the lives and rights of fellow Nepalis?
Can’t we learn from the lessons of Afghanistan and Iraq?
The Maobadis must be given a chance at the polls,
Like all other democratic parties.
Time will tell us whether they can integrate
In Nepal or not.
I have hope,
For the Maobadis are bahuns and chettris,
Be they Prachanda or Baburam Bhattrai,
Leaders who are Nepalese.
The game of bagh-chal goes on,
For Vishnu no longer holds,
The executive, judiciary, legislative,
Spiritual and temporal powers
In the shadow of the Himalayas.

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

A GURKHA MOTHER (Satis Shroff)
(Death of a Precious Jewel)

The gurkha with a khukri
But no enemy
Works for the United Nations
And yet gets shot at
In missions he doesn't comprehend.
Order is hukum, hukum is life
Johnny Gurkha still dies under foreign skies.

He never asks why
Politics isn't his style
He's fought against all and sundry:
Turks, Tibetans, Italians and Indians
Germans, Japanese, Chinese
Argentenians and Vietnamese.
Indonesians and Iraqis.
Loyalty to the utmost
Never fearing a loss.

The loss of a mother's son
From the mountains of Nepal.

Her grandpa died in Burma
For the glory of the British.
Her husband in Mesopotemia
She knows not against whom
No one did tell her.
Her brother fell in France,
Against the Teutonic hordes.
She prays to Shiva of the Snows for peace
And her son's safety.
Her joy and her hope
Farming on a terraced slope.

A son who helped wipe her tears
And ease the pain in her mother's heart.
A frugal mother who lives by the seasons
And peers down to the valleys
Year in and year out
In expectation of her soldier son.

A smart Gurkha is underway
Heard from across the hill with a shout
'It’s an officer from his battalion.
A letter with a seal and a poker-face
"Your son died on duty", he says,
"Keeping peace for the country
And the United Nations".

A world crumbles down
The Nepalese mother cannot utter a word
Gone is her son,
Her precious jewel.
Her only insurance and sunshine
In the craggy hills of Nepal.
And with him her dreams
A spartan life that kills.

Glossary:
gurkha: soldier from Nepal
Johnny Gurkha: Eine Bezeichnung für die Nepalis die in Englands Gurkha Einheiten (z.B. King Edward’s Own Gurkha Rifles) dienen. Sie leisten auch heute noch ihren Eid auf die britische Königin und ziehen u. a. vor dem Buckingham Palast als Ehrenwache auf. Britische Gurkhas dienten in Malaysia, Indonesien (Borneo), Hongkong, Brunei, Zypern und neuerdings auch in Kosovo.
khukri: curved knife used in hand-to-hand combat
hukum: Befehl/command/order
shiva: a god in Hinduism
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE NEPALESE REALITY (Satis Shroff)

All the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Could not put Nepal together again.

Nepalese men and women
Look out of their ornate windows,
In west, east, north and south Nepal
And think:
A decade long war between the Maoists and Royalists
Has come to an end
We have suffered so much.
So many innocent men, women, boys and girls
Have been slain by bullets,
From both sides.

Kal Bhairab seems to be pacified,
For Vishnu has crept to his bed of serpents.
He peers at the unfurling scenario:
A new interim government,
A new constitution,
More amendments.
He hisses with a sulk:
‘What can they do better than I?’

When aristocrats, chauvinists, egoists and phallocrats
Were in power,
The underprivileged castes and tribes,
Women and children,
Went always with empty hands.
A new revolution and democracy is in the land,
But have the people changed their minds?
Or are they still conscious of their caste, birth and tribe?
Of their earlier prejudices, hatred and malice
Towards the dalits, the have-nots?

Our fervent prayers have been heard.
The people are rejoicing in the streets of Kathmandu.
May there be ‘everlasting’ peace again in Nepal,
Though ‘everlasting peace’ has become inflationary.
We have no choice,
But to lay our hopes on the fragile signatures
Of two protagonists,
In the Shadow of the Himalayas.
Rejoice and take reality as it is.