I have wandered aimless all over Tehran, From Azadi to Enghelab, From Qeytariyeh to Tajrish,
 Velenjak climbing up the route to reach Baam-e-Tehran Behold the capital of ours! Not glorious, and scene— 
 I saw the city inside and close, up and out, Wandered and wandered until we became one, I rejoiced and I flowed, I followed the stranger who I thought was my muse And all along I was followed,
 I was thrilled and I was scared, I was alone and I was surrounded, And yet I was most of all Lonely. 
 Yearning for meaning I got lost in lust,
 looking for adventure I drove fast and nonstop I skipped the scenery as I passed by Didn’t notice a thing until it was way too late!

Life passed by with everything promising novelty. and I flowed Drifted and drifted until the city was dusk, Dust on the windshield Nobody could see through anymore And I kept drifting, feeling better in the dark,

Thinking “Finally I feel safe being in this city, As long as no-one can see me. I just want to be invisible.” And I carried on. 
 I kept singing hiding my lips from the cameras, I kept dancing always watching out for the Police, All the while driving smoking driving drinking driving And still flowing careless of the rules, I wanted to get caught And I never did, Odd,

I felt liberated in this pond of sharks, Then I felt trapped swallowed whole by the city and I was I no more,

I became the city and all its bouts, I am a rebel, a wallflower, and drive, a walk— And I looked at me on the map and I saw Myself, standing still as if running on a treadmill,

What views, what scenes I have ignored, What books they sell on Enghelab’s sidewalks,
 So insightful yet so cheap, The books that stop you from being a sheep,

What an old city, What glory it must’ve beheld What ancient monuments and what rotting minds The monuments more glorious as they rot away, The minds stink more Spilling their filth into the future.

The future? What Future? They’re all sweeping the land clean Clean of all the glory The heritage unseen, And they say “we are now soldiers of the invisible to incarnate SOON” While striping the city clean of all its glory!

 A perpetual state of undoing whatever doesn’t agree,
 and teaching the youngsters how to be good subjects as they should be,

“Dear child, you don’t need to know about the past, The future and the past shall be what I deem righteous,
 Bother not asking questions just stand in line,
 While I tell you of the future you ought to live”

Cacophonous and meaningless, Charming nonetheless!

Speaking of which, Indeed it’s charming, this Tehran city of ours, So much so that the world thinks “Those living in it must be charming too,
 But oh my… the smell, the fog, the ugly scene,”

It’s some glorious relic of the past, And only that and not more,

Perhaps it wasn’t glorious ever anyway Look at this shell of a city, Look at the aimless heads wandering this hell, None has a body, Just a bunch of ghosts, The glory they sold us was just a trojan horse.

Monuments are now objects waiting to be demolished, Heritage has gave way to propaganda And now Look at the headless bodies— Those with a head have lost all stature— Those with a body have put their head in a dungeon some years ago—

What preposterous creatures live in this town!

What do they really believe in? What the fuck will they stand for? Glorious thieves and magnificent con artists Lashing at the noble to keep them only on the mantlepiece Taking a jab at the educated to keep them at bay, Swearing at the artist for not being a slave like them, A swarm or zombies connected all to one mind, The supreme mind, Hail glory to the glorious glory of all of them

Oh fuck him inglorious murderous bastard siping away our lives, And such a small mind he has Hasn’t managed to learn a thing in more than a millennia May parrot has more humanity that that ugly goat,

I look at the people passing me on the sidewalks These people seem helpless I feel really scared, What if they realized I saw them and they see me back? I’m tired of all this scenery I just wanna rot in my room.

But no my life my choice, My mind my fucking life

I will speak, talk, heck I’ll even shout— Beat me, arrest me, torture me, rape me, kill me— I’ll let the world know how ugly this is, I don’t really know what this is, But it doesn’t feel right, They’re sucking life out of a county. I don’t even know who “they” really are anymore! Is that normal? Am I crazy to be so angry?

It’s so ugly that it doesn’t even rhyme, Can’t make it rhyme it is mine, The story to tell is mine, I refuse to rhyme it is not pleasant it is not nice,

Fuck the niceties, it is shady and foggy just like the city itself And I wander off around looking all the while for myself, I do not look for love nor adventure anymore, I am tired, heartless, brainless alive no more This is a parody of my eulogy It is not funny, not sweet, nor entertaining, neither romantic

And it all happened in one evening.

The city touched me It touched my soul crushed me and told me “it didn’t mean it to be…” This city adulterated me along with the entire country, This land was sunny now all I see is the fog, The sun was blinding yet all is see is the fog, The light was piercing yet all I see is the fog,