Reality replied, Ho prisoner of time, Our secret treasure, our new Persian window grill, We wished this treasure to be known, So we created a grill, its shining curved lines, its darkened gold look, We hope all the the world sees, The back would please you, If you’ve never seen the face.
Has anyone ever produced a grill, That shone like our Persian moon grill, Until juice ferments a while in the cask, You can gaze as our Persian moon grill, My King addressed the soul of my flesh, Where are the traces of my gifts, My King I give you, our Persian moon grill.
We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold, but never did we see metal turn into a Persian moon grill, Jesus sat humbly on the back of an ass, My child, look, a Persian moon grill,
