Two or three crooks are on the loose
Thoughtfully in deception they succeed
Even the moon they will abuse.
Two or three vagrants have taken lead
Joyous, aware, laughter they breed
They shout, command, order indeed
Will make the earth pay her dues.
They befriend that face unseen,
Which every soul longs to have seen
Like those eyes, lean and mean they glean
Their own well being they refuse.
They have their own shape and face
Yet faces they despise and displace;
Their presence this world may grace
Yet both worlds are but shades and hues.
They wear pious robe and gown
Fight each other for a crown
Yet much like the circus clown
United they join and fuse.
Like lions they rip and tear
Upon their lips smiles wear
Though their enmity they share
In truth friendship they choose.
To your face, they only praise
Behind you talk of your craze
Openly like flowers amaze
Yet have thorns in hidden queues.
Alchemically they transmute
Lead into gold, none can refute
By day reap wheat, no dispute
Yet by night sow barley, some accuse.
Be compassionate, kind and fair
Serve these charlatans if you dare
Because nobody else will care
They abuse with every excuse.
Translated By: Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, CA
July 26, 1999