Invisible boundaries, standing
At the top of the birth tower the city is endless,
Plummeting, two hundred eighty metres to the ground
Chaos, confusion, frantic traffic ruled by anarchy
Eighteen million wandering souls musing upon

How to bring home the bread, where to dine,
A restaurant or a coffeehouse, counting millions
To figure, whether spices are affordable this month,
What gem catches the eye at the jewellery shop,
What’s the bargain at the bazaar, nose job or lip fillers,

Will I ever find a decent job.

Discrepancies, noise, amidst the beauty that was
And that which could be once more, old houses
With their patios, fountains and gardens, torn down
To make way for modern luxurious apartments,
Skyscrapers, where only the rich can live whilst the poor

Move out and beyond, the invisible boundaries
To be forgotten, ’cause the city will forget you.

Contradictions, governed by religious Robin Hoods
Allegedly aspiring to redistribute wealth,
Stealing from the wealthy to give to…
Themselves. Unlike westerners who steal
From the poor to replenish pockets already far too full.

Tehran, my city beloved, invades me with pain,
Inebriates me with joy. Pain for its insane
Paradoxes, joy for no matter what its people
Keep pouring upon me generosity and kindness
Enduring, knowing, that against all odds

Tomorrow will be brighter than today.

[Featured photo: a piece of Tehran as seen from the Borj-e Milad]