شعر: سعد تهامي| الإسكندريه – مصر
It was across all times,
And across all lands,
That they have suffered,
By twisted hands,
But never forgotten,
Are their tales,
Despite being censored,
Attacked, and veiled,
And it is but woe,
They all share,
Yet women of the world,
Will rise and fare,
And there are many stories,
Like the story of Iman,
It was at a young age,
When her suffering began,
Iman was at her house,
Playing with her doll,
She was like a flower,
Soft, and sweet, and small,
She was playing all night,
With nothing in her mind,
But in the next morning,
Iman became a bride,
She found her toys were wasted,
Her childhood washed away,
And Iman will be a wife,
while her friends run and play,
And then we have the tale,
Of the suffering of Noor,
When she got her education,
But of her freedom — unsure,
Noor was ecstatic,
When she got her degree,
After many years of studying,
She thought she’s finally free,
So Noor went and started,
Searching for any type of work,
And when she told her father,
He stood up and went berserk:
“What do you think you’re doing?
No girls work in this house,
Come, I’ve found someone decent,
Who’s going to be your spouse,
And then we have Mary,
Who works every single day,
To provide for her children,
For their father passed away,
She can’t have a breath,
She can’t even remarry,
And none will ever bear,
The burdens she has to carry,
And when she’s done with work,
She teaches, cooks, and cleans,
With no one by her side,
No one to hear her scream,
And Mariana walks,
Her body limp and bruised,
But she can’t speak up,
And say that she’s abused,
She tells herself she’s lucky,
Other women have it worse,
Some die when they’re beaten,
Some view living as a curse,
But she can’t help but dream,
One day — she escapes it all,
And all her scars would heal,
And her tears would cease to fall,
Some like Kristiyana,
Her voice brings but shame,
Even when violated,
She has herself to blame,
She has to endure being silent,
And her peers endure it too,
For even if they’re a victim,
They’ll never get their due,
But they’ll face punishment,
For what was done to them,
And none will defend them,
None the crimes will condemn,
And many tales are known,
And many left untold,
Suffering was rejected,
And fate is to be controlled,
Despite the cruel path,
And a future so dark,
They held into their hope,
Which was but a spark,
So that these stories are remembered,
So that the present may change,
And the right of humanity,
Is never something strange,
Honor to them and their struggle,
Through action, or through word,
Thus we pay a tribute,
To the Women of the World.
