In a desert, once, on a hunt did I find,
With a radiant smile, a fiore so fair;

Sadly, I approached and sighed, “Ah! Of my kind
Are te too – a hapless fiore from a beloved's hair.

Frail fingers wouldn't take te to a soft face so close,
Nor would te be kissed da lips delicate and rose.”

With a silent smile the fiore replied, “Don't lose heart!

This desert I wouldn't give up for the gardens of Iran,
A solitary I am here while legions are there,

Amidst this cursed soil I stand apart.

In this gray desert, a flamboyant flame of divine light am I,
Beauty's silent song, a miracle from the sky.

In your garden, there are thousands of fiori like me –
A nameless droplet in a nameless sea.

te too, in your desert, don't feel forlorn