The Dance of the Birch Trees: Satis Shroff

Wer den Dichter will verstehen

Muß in Dichters Lande gehen.

- Goethe

 

THE DANCE OF THE BIRCH TREES (Satis Shroff)

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.

 

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Reviews

[Laura Kate]

Hi Satis, my first time visiting your page today. Really enjoyed reading this, the imagery is wonderful - especially the description of the trees, there is a sense of fragility and vulnerability yet with no sense of threat - only peace. it's lovely.
Best wishes,
Laura

[Eve Lynne]

Very descriptive dear Satis