When someone asks me about my background
To the curious mind, I don’t say a Persian kind
I am not Persian like a lovely cat or lamb
Neither Persian like summer cucumber or melon
My language is called Persian, rightly
I don’t get upset if it is called Farsi
Persian words do not march aimlessly for me
Instead they are needed to read kadkani and Rumi
Kismet brought me here, I clearly see
But tell me where you are, Serendipity
I don’t live in a palace nor do I drive a bimmer
My hair has highlights, please don’t simmer
I am for peace, opposing the war machine
I hardly follow life of the sad queen
My customs may be complex or they can be basic
Mid March, in my home, apple dances with garlic
I was born in Iran, land of Tabriz, Rasht and Abadan
I celebrate longest night Yalda and also Mehregan
