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The pride of the world,
have we stepped on with great hatred.
The whispers of the words,
have they buried in their various tunnels.

We no longer recognize their garment,
stabbing them greatly while they lament.
They hope to beautify on earth their fulfillment, 
Yet they are severed greatly with blandishment.

Women, the salt of the earth.
This have we seen,
yet we see nothing to be felt.
Then when are we going to recognize our sins?

Women, the key to every development.
though, a fabric are they so soft.
Agreeably, they are the main ingredients.
Without them, we are seen to flop.

Why must every good thing be torn?
Why must their heart be insecure?
Why must we show to them epitome so impure?
In good, why must we pay back bad in return?

So soft have they been seen,
Captivity have we sown on them.
Now they hope to get not to the scene,
swiveling their blood away from their flesh

Why have we destroyed their ecstasy?
Bringing to them great enmity,
portraying to them odious entity,
now they hope to be in a state of tranquility.

In concord,
we say "end the violence"
Violence against women,
idolize their presence in great intense
And leave on their heart lusty essence.

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