By Mohammad-Ali Sepanlou, translated by Danial Haghighi.
… But the Tehran being is contingent upon many invisible beings. Varieties of solitude are histories of this land; An attic of occult affairs’ verity A distillation of the crowd’s extract—an heirloom of four species of us A bundle of newfangled intellectual fruits An orchestra of aspiration-and-famine melody The fine music of a thousand-string instrument With a touch of neuroticism. An ivory tower with four eyes across every eight corners of the universe that is the surveilling observant of the most remote precincts: From here, mountainous Alborz heights—the dragon jail— to there, earthquake likelihood—the faun’s notions— terrain memories figured into his daydreams. Having placed a mirror facing the sun, while blinking through millions of sharp eyes, saucers translate rainbow messages of the skies: “Single, every single citizen, under the smoky air singing the lost love song; lo, genial sky-wearer it is the downhearted’s comfort zone.” “Behold! It’s a Tehran of irreducible people”, the sun blinks. The jovial being of this megalopolis sprung from a collective free will. ∎