September Gulls (Spanish and English) (poem) by Muhammad A. Al Mahdi on AuthorsDen

September Gulls (Spanish and English)
by Muhammad A. Al Mahdi → (All Poetry by Muhammad A. Al Mahdi)
Thursday, September 27, 2018 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Spanish translation by Angel Fábregas García
Gaviotas de septiembre flechas brillantes disparadas a ningún cielo humano empapan las nubes de chillidos en mitad de la estación sientes el fluir de las mareas mucho antes de que la primera rosa se marchite en la estridencia de tu chillido hice mi hogar en la ferocidad de tu hambre en la austeridad de tu caza en tu vuelo que se sabe sin fin ni confianza guardar los elementos mismos veo demasiado hondo en ese vaso lleno de septiembre disfrazado de agua de rosas un espejo reacio de declive oceánico rociado de espuma cabalgando en las altas crestas del tiempo el corazón se eleva en septiembre estoy alto en el aire como la mano de un reloj harapiento y roto sin remedio la risa de una gaviota grabada en mi cara September gulls bright arrows fired off into no man's sky you drench the clouds with screeches In the midst of the season you feel the turn of the tides long before the first rose wilts In the shrillness of your screech I made my home in the fierceness of your hunger in the starkness of your hunt in your flight that knows no end nor trust save in the elements themselves I see too deep into that glass which is filled with September in the guise of rosewater an unwilling mirror of oceanic descent sprinkled with sea foam and riding on the high crests of time Heart rising up into September I stand high in the air like the hand of a clock Ragged and torn I stand unmitigated A seagull's laughter etched into my face

Reviewed by Regis Auffray

Reviewed on September 27, 2018

Beautiful and meaningful poetry that stirs the soul. For me, September is a time for reflection as I look forward to autumn which is my favourite season. I do love the imagery as well in these fine verses. Thank you for sharing this gift, Mahdi. Love and peace to you,

Regis

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton

Last three lines, el perfecto! This is so well done. Listening to the sea gulls and the final laughter you laugh aloud.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

I find this poem very poignant and beautifully expressed. September is often used as a metaphor for nearing the end of life, particularly when love dies, the flames burn out, or the seagulls tell you that the bleakness of winter surf is coming.

Ron