September, I-III
To Yury Nagibin
I
What's an awful weather outdoors? However,
Of no matter such an incident -
In january I'm living as in september,
Persistently and frenzily.
September, don't draw your wing,
Your wing of yellow-orange colour,
And, please, postpone your last will,
Your last day - give me linger, rather.
Wait me a little, don't sleep,
All enveloped by the will of grantor,
And, as in past times, waste your riches,
Indulge all growing trees with bounty.
What it had been! How the grass had strained
In order to turn green with such completeness,
And a tree, as a copper pipe, had played,
Had shined above the ground withered.
To all front gardens, overfilled to edge,
The nature spended, wasted its resource,
And dahlia displayed its inflorescence
And stood still, waiting for next growth.
The crowd of the startled painters
Was looking furtively on the colour scene,
And crowded, and wiped its sweat
From foreheads, cried of being innocent.
Cried of not being organizer of commotion,
And that those red colours were not shed all by it,
And as a proof, the crowd showed
Its poor palette then to everybody.
No, you are surely not guilty. All the same
The boughs will change colours in the autumn,
But all this - that of yellow or red,
Or green - let live forever, though.
How that made dirty, how eyes were hitted,
How the former colouration was broken!
And in this rapture - all the market did
The prices on the apples lower...
II
And we had met. You'd gone outdoors.
Everything had ended. Everything had started.
No any day was charged before
This day, as if before the Christmas party.
And we had seen each other. Coming in the doors.
And no any house was in there...
We had met, as the leaders old
With leaned back heads - together -
Fom pride, from knowledge - what is what -
From deep mistrust and inner tension.
By your forehead, by my forehead, as dot,
This dark motion had quickly flashed.
We met, as children in the morning,
With leaned back heads - of inner kindness,
Of readiness to be good, though,
Being timid with the words and shy so.
September, oh september, that's your guilt,
You operated so blindly, wrongly.
The freedom of indifference - you still
Is to be cursed, and blessed -and simulataneously.
Your client may be happy in the limits
Of your great fortresses, which were so solid built,
Invulnerable for the pain and love deep.
How vindictively they look at me.
And we had met. September was such generous
To hold its feasts abundant, unsuspiciously.
But by assess of importance of this play,
All people and all trees had shrinked back quickly.
III
My hands recovered their sight.
And eyes became, as hands, effective, greedy.
And then appeared voices in my larynx,
Dried up of thirst for the new sounds, real.
And this my core I'm understanding once in freedom.
You stand, and I'm standing -sounding, and opened for pain.
September added to our hair the orange tint, and teached us
To live, as he did, just exerting to last date.
(To be continued)
poem by Bella Akhmadulina, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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Related quotes
September Grass
Well, the suns not so hot in the sky today
And you know I can see summertime slipping on away
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
But the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed
So Ill be king and youll be queen
Our kingdoms gonna be this little patch of green
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh the memory is like the sweetest pain
Yeah, I kissed the girl at a football game
I can still smell the sweat and the grass stains
We walked home together. I was never the same.
But that was a long time ago
And where is she now? I dont know
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh, september grass is the sweetest kind
It goes down easy like apple wine
Hope you dont mind if I pour you some
Made that much sweeter by the winter to come
Do you see those ants dancing on a blade of grass?
Do you know what I know? thats you and me, baby
Were so small and the worlds so vast
We found each other down in the grass
Wont you lie down with me right here
September grass
Wont you lie down with me now
In this september grass
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
(repeat)
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down here now
In this september grass
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When September Arrives, Again
September arrives and Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
September arrives,
And the sky loses brightness.
Winds start to whip...
Leaves off of trees.
I use to wonder,
Why I heard thundering...
As it rained to bring a change to things.
September seems erratic and dramatic.
Shifting as it does...
To prepare all for the Winter.
Children return to school,
As cool winds descend.
September has come back,
Again...
So quickly.
September arrives,
And Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
When September arrived.
And Autumn began,
With winds again.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
As Autumn began,
With winds again to begin.
When September arrived.
When September...
Arrived!
When September,
Arrives...
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is So Good To Be Outdoors
On a sunny day like this day tis just great to be alive
Just to walk out in the sunshine or to go off on a drive
To the mountain or the coastal town or to the park nearby
It is nice for to be outdoors when the sun is in the sky
A sunny day in September of around 20 degrees
And the scents of flowers and blossoms wafting in the freshening breeze
And the young lambs in the paddocks around their mothers play
It is good for to be outdoors on a warm day like today,
The familiar song of the blackbird a feathered minstrel of the Spring
And the honeyeaters chirping and the shrike thrush pipe and sing
And October days are looming and September all but gone
And the Spring is passing quickly and father time keeps ticking on
And the welcome swallows chirping they are so graceful in flight
It is so good to be outdoors in the September sunlight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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September Changes
September is like no other
It's days change color and weather
No other month can say quite the same
For every day, I can feel the change
It's cool breezes start out warm,
Changing to cold throughout every storm
The leaves change and fall
As the Summer leaves and Autumn kisses us all
September maidens feel the change
Like the blue of the sky
Yet the color so deep
Unbelievable beauty
Maidens fall throughout and watch
Each raindropp changing through colors so fast
Yet one streak remains the same
Of that wonderful sapphire rain.
September, unlike any other
Holds you tight, in any weather.
Changes come, no matter where you go
North and you'll get stormy snow
South and feel the heat of summer coming
September does this, no matter what.
Change lives within, Nothing to stop
September is beautiful
And awesome all the same
It's hope for the future and the change
Comes swiftly as we sweep away
The Summer ends and the Autumn begins
Change is all around
With one maiden leaving
And yet, another comes
Born into the world
Of wonderful September
The sapphire skies live on
Through out this wonderful September
poem by Jessica Millsaps
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Holy September
A kiss on the lips of today
For stepping into tommorow.
The blinds are closed for now.
Don't sell yourself for sorrow.
Oh! Precious my september.
Begins with all the stars.
Buses from the summer.
In september driving cars.
Praising my september.
Praising all my needs.
Sends me to tomorrow.
September grows my seeds.
Officers of my journey.
With love inside the day.
The tolerance of my wonder.
The tolerence of my dismay.
Nestled in september.
You've wakened from those dreams.
Oh holy, my september.
The cloth around my seams.
September shines around me,
Like the sun onto my day.
September my september.
Is there any other way?
poem by Attia Taylor
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Come September
Her bones will ache
Her mouth will shake
And as the passion dies
Her magic heart will break
She'll fly to France
'Cause there's no chance
No hope for Cinderella
Come September
Her violet sky
Will need to cry
'Cause if it doesn't rain
Then everything will die
She needs to heal
She needs to feel
Something more than tender
Come September
Everything wrong
Gonna be all right
Come September
The souls that burn
Will twist and turn and
Find you in the dark
No matter where you run
But lost her spark
And what she's pushing for
She can't remember
Everything wrong
Gonna be all right
Come September
Her eyes surrender
Her cry a crying shame
Coming undone
Is she ever gonna
Feel the same
She will run
She's gona drink the sun
Shining just for you
Instead of everyone
And so it goes
She'll stand alone
And try no to remember
Come September
Everything wrong
Gonna be all right
Come September
She's made her mark
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia from White Lilies Island
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September
If there's a month to remember
it must be September
and remember it we do.
For the summer has baked all in its sight
and we are ready for the view
of cooler days
and apples to munch,
and cider to drink
along with our lunch
The days will grow shorter
and the nights will linger
and sweaters and scarves will be worn.
The moon in the sky will start to turn orange.
And we'll remember September in the morn.
Yes the month of September, the one we remember
makes me happy that I was born.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Fun of September!
End of summer
And beginning of winter
Is September!
Sand melting heat
And sand wetting rain
Occur in September!
Full grown fruits
And fully blossomed flowers
You see in September!
Heat in the morning
And rain in evening and night
Town gets in September!
Summer holiday ends
And all festivals begin now on
From September on!
September begins
Fast pace of the year ever
With all festivals!
They being Ganesh Chadurthi,
Navrathri, Diwali, Christmas,
New Year and Pongal are...!
Time moves fast
As no boredom ever shows
Head from September!
Fun of September
Starts Autumn, Rain and Winter
All in one....!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Come September
Come September,
when two of nature's seasons live as one,
where days of summer shed their final afterglow
'ere falling gently 'neath an autumn's rising sun,
and every hanging bough and turning leaf will know ~
the green meets gold,
within the murmurings and turnings of trees
that flutter their branches in a restless dance
of impending change. Their limbs akimbo, as arms,
waving goodbye...watching autumn advance,
yet, summer pleads,
to share the days of changeling September
and clings to every breath of autumn's eve ~
spreading warmth and sultry breeze with waning movement
while knowing time grows short, and it must leave,
as beauty stays,
though, not for long, for gold becomes gold
after summer's sung her final song,
and lustrous are the days and nights made bold
with autumn's breath blowing chilly and cold ~
O'grieve September,
though, not for long, as gold turns into winter white,
then into green with 'springing' guile,
and summer's sight brings back September,
to share a season's remembered smile.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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One September Day
Years, they will come and go
Sometimes the tears will flow
Some of my memories will fade
But I'll always remember that one September day
I used to reminisce
'Cause I thought that love was bliss
How did they know it would go astray
It began and it ended on one September day
We met by chance
As people often do
But it blossomed, yes it blossomed
Into something I never knew
Now... It is in the past
They said it would never last
I'll not forget the moment back
Nor hot May or December
Nor June or November
But one September day
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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9/11: A Day Of Infamy (Chain poem)
September eleventh is a day
Day of infamy that I'll never forget
Forget what with my horrified eyes I watched
Watched coming from my TV screen and that re-played
Re-played showing airplanes flying and hitting straight
Straight into the Pentagon and the Twin Tower buildings
Buildings all around just started to sway and fall
Fall and bringing around so much destruction and death
Death took so many by surprise
Surprise and horror was shown on all faces as we witnessed
Witness and faced before us all this horrible tragedy
Tragedy that filled our hearts with unbearable sorrow and pain
Pain as we saw all this unfolding before our very eyes as we cried
Cried as we watched in horror all this happening
Happening back then and nobody able to stop it that fateful day
Day of so much destruction and sorrow
Sorrow and loss that took place that September eleventh day
Day in which we saw innumerable heroic acts of faith and courage
Courage of spirit hope and love for many that faced death
Death and destruction on this very unforgettable
Unforgettable day September 11,2001
September 5,2009
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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Try To Remember
Words and music by tom jones and harvey schmidt from the musical the
Fantasticks
Try to remember the kind of september
When life was slow and oh so mellow
Try to remember the kind of september
When grass was green and grain so yellow
Try to remember the kind of september
When you were a young and a callow fellow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh
Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh
Deep in december its nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow
Deep in december its nice to remember
Without a hurt, the heart is hollow
Deep in december its nice to remember
The fire of september that made you mellow
Deep in december our hearts should remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh
Follow, oh-oh
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In South Gippsland In September
On the fruit trees in the gardens the pinkish blossoms are in bloom
And by the roadside fences yellow flowers are on the broom
And the flute like notes of the magpie have such a melodious ring
In South Gippsland in september in the infancy of Spring.
The weather not too cool or warm it's a near to perfect day
And the nesting gulls are calling on the cliffs above the bay
And the bubbling song of the butcherbird is a joyful thing to hear
In South Gippsland in September it's a pleasant time of year.
The lark above the coastal scrub is carolling as he fly
And upwards he's ascending a small speck in the sky
And hidden in a tuft of grass her eggs warm beneath her breast
In south Gippsland in September his mate sits in her nest.
The pleasant sounds float to me in the freshening coastal breeze
Of crimson rosellas chirping on gum and wattle trees
And the hoarse cacklings of the wattlebirds are familiar sounds to me
In South Gippsland in September where the land meets the sea
poem by Francis Duggan
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In September…
IN SEPTEMBER…
In September,
When the plane-tree
Is a proud sight,
And when its short-lived,
Yellow grief
Goes with the wind,
It stands there
With its bare hands
Raised to the sky,
All frozen and chilled,
And begs the sun
To restore it to life.
Translated from Georgian
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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September Girl
My September girl is a master of her own inner Sanctum.
Her beauty is paralyzing to onlookers, who never seen that side of her continent.
My September girl gave me all of her love, soul, body and attention.
She will always be a treasure in this man's heart.
Her beauty is art and when she would leave, he would ask where is thou art?
My September girl has an inner door, that can only be opened by a special key.
This key he did not obtain, for this chorus was, and is still in his mind, and brain.
Never can be to intoxicated off of her love, for she is like wine, and spirits, that never left a hangover.
My September girl comes from March, which can be seen as Mar's, for her visage was alien to me. What can I see when I look in her soul?
My September girl is Godly and deep. When she was with me she was asleep.
Now that she awoke from that cloud of smoke,
she realized her uncanny potential, her uncanny soul, and spoke of a dream where she was as sweet as September.
poem by Josephe Buchanan
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The Golden Land
O SWEET September in the valley
Carved through the green hills, sheer and straight,
Where the tall trees crowd round and sally
Down the slope sides, with stately gait
And sylvan dance: and in the hollow
Silver voices ripple and cry
Follow, O follow!
Follow, O follow!-and we follow
Where the white cottages star the slope,
And the white smoke winds o'er the hollow,
And the blythe air is quick with hope;
Till the Sun whispers, O remember!
You have but thirty days to run,
O sweet September!
-O sweet September, where the valley
Leans out wider and sunny and full,
And the red cliffs dip their feet and dally
With the green billows, green and cool;
And the green billows archly smiling,
Kiss and cling to them, kiss and leave them,
Bright and beguiling:-
Bright and beguiling, as She who glances
Along the shore and the meadows along,
And sings for heart's delight, and dances
Crowned with apples, and ruddy, and strong:-
Can we see thee, and not remember
Thy sun-brown cheek and hair sun-golden,
O sweet September?
poem by Francis Turner Palgrave
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Farewell To Summer
It has begun: a few leaves are falling;
Autumn has started its gentle calling.
Summer is slowly coming to an end;
Now autumn wants to be our friend.
During autumn, we may feel a little cold,
But, in return, we've been promised gold.
Golden leaves will be found all around:
Up in the trees, and down on the ground.
Leaves of yellow, brown, orange, and fiery red,
Will form a coloured carpet to soften our tread.
We'll be presented with a whole wealth of riches,
As, from summer to autumn, the season switches.
The tall, towering trees will be set ablaze,
As traces of summer are slowly erased.
Sorely missed will be summer's long days;
Sorely missed will be summer's warm rays.
But time moves on, and the summer must go;
No doubt we'll be dazzled by autumn's show.
Autumn prefers to paint us a different scene;
It likes to wipe summer's colour palette clean.
Some say farewell to summer with a sad tear,
But, others much prefer this time of the year.
Chill September mornings may be here again,
But our memories of this summer will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The River-Captain’s Wife – A Letter
I with my hair in its first fringe
Romped outside breaking flower-heads.
You galloped by on bamboo horses.
We juggled green plums round the well.
Living in Chang-kan village,
Two small people without guile.
At fourteen I married you sir,
So bashful I could only hide,
My frowning face turned to the wall.
Called after - never looking back.
Fifteen before I learnt to smile.
Yearned to be one with you forever.
You to be the Ever-Faithful.
I to not sit lonely, waiting.
At sixteen you sir went away,
Through White King’s Gorge, by Yen Rock’s rapids,
When the Yangtze’s at its highest,
Where the gibbons cried above you.
Here by the door your last footprints,
Slowly growing green mosses,
So deep I cannot sweep them,
Leaves so thick from winds of autumn.
September’s yellow butterflies
Twine together in our west garden.
What I feel – it hurts the heart.
Sadness makes my beauty vanish.
When you come down from far places,
Please will you write me a letter?
As far as the farthest reaches,
I’ll come out to welcome you.
September
1 The golden-rod is yellow;
2 The corn is turning brown;
3 The trees in apple orchards
4 With fruit are bending down.
5 The gentian's bluest fringes
6 Are curling in the sun;
7 In dusty pods the milkweed
8 Its hidden silk has spun.
9 The sedges flaunt their harvest,
10 In every meadow nook;
11 And asters by the brook-side
12 Make asters in the brook,
13 From dewy lanes at morning
14 The grapes' sweet odors rise;
15 At noon the roads all flutter
16 With yellow butterflies.
17 By all these lovely tokens
18 September days are here,
19 With summer's best of weather,
20 And autumn's best of cheer.
21 But none of all this beauty
22 Which floods the earth and air
23 Is unto me the secret
24 Which makes September fair.
25 'T is a thing which I remember;
26 To name it thrills me yet:
27 One day of one September
28 I never can forget.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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(Love) September Girl
All I want to breathe is your hair,
The mocha delight of the skin that you wear.
I want you to be the light on the dark side of me,
The sun rays upon my snow
And the blue jays that soar free.
The light that flickers in my iris is for you,
The smile curved on lips,
The blush on my cheek, that gentle hue
Is for no one but you.
I want the sonata of your voice
To lull me to sleep each night,
To the moonlit river to tomorrow, awakening to your celestial sight.
The September wind being as gentle as the kisses we share,
September skies that I will paint for you each year.
You are my lily pads in the reflection of the lake,
September waters from my moonlit river,
Dawning of a September wake.
My firelight circle of hope
Emanating in embers alit in the September rain.
My September carousel of white horses keeps turning,
All my soul within me burning
For you.
My sainted angel for whom angels give envy.
Flirt and flutter around my September moon.
I'm sick of the other months in this world,
So flirt and flutter to me soon,
My September girl.
poem by K. Jared Hosein
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