I come from Saturn,
That which has a halo;
That plain of poppies,
which tells tales of the *Sarbadars' honors and heartfelt feelings.
It is mid-July— and finally the height of summer!
I come from Saturn,
from *Kayvan;
I come from the unwritten line of the silent self,
from the seventh square of this chessboard;
Arriving with no soldiers nor sound; Naught but a bleeding drum!
Where all guns are silenced and suppressed;
I come from the lineage of a spirit
Whom has words left unsaid,
And a thirst for the guillotine;
I come from the shifting face of the *Sayyaara and stars!
Speak in whispers,
for here—
voices appear from the well-hidden, silent stones
at the edge of the graveyard!