 I want to thank you, Jack, and Dottie, for organizing this event. The poem I'm going to read in Farsi and English, and this poem actually dedicated to Jack Hirschman. The name of the poem is Alan Ginsberg in Tehran. Mafhume kohnei ist, tanha yek seda yas ke mimanad. Alan Ginsberg in Tehran. Alan was walking in Vanak square next to the poet Ahmad Shamlu. The book Aida in mirror in his hand had no meaning. One can say the world is simply beautiful as is. An inch of earth, everywhere has the smell of kindness when there is no discord. This is my ancestral land. Its sorrow has the smell of basil leaves where mourning glories seek refuge on the tall trunk of popular trees. You have asked me what kind of concept exists in the notion of this yellow cup in your hand. I replied black or white or yellow is an archaic meaning. The last thing color is the unity of our voices.