Sleep your sleep, my precious child,
Dream your precious dreams,
All too soon you'll grow to know
What being a woman means.
Your place of birth has many names,
But each one means the same,
A woman here is born to live
In misery and shame.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
My pride, my passion and my will
Are strong as any man's
But that can cost a woman's life
In this cruel uncaring land.
In his own mould, man forged his god,
And taught him his own ways,
A woman's base and low, so she
Must suffer all her days.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Pray your father prospers well
And never knows hard times,
Lest you be sold to slavery
Or other, darker crimes.
Then when you come of age, my child,
Some man that woman bore,
Will take you as his property,
His prisoner and his whore.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Alone we each know our despair,
Together, we are strong.
We'll not give up on any dream,
Or suffer endless wrongs.
Equality and liberty,
We'll strive to realise,
When those who can reach out their hands
Will open up their eyes.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Dream your precious dreams,
All too soon you'll grow to know
What being a woman means.
Your place of birth has many names,
But each one means the same,
A woman here is born to live
In misery and shame.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
My pride, my passion and my will
Are strong as any man's
But that can cost a woman's life
In this cruel uncaring land.
In his own mould, man forged his god,
And taught him his own ways,
A woman's base and low, so she
Must suffer all her days.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Pray your father prospers well
And never knows hard times,
Lest you be sold to slavery
Or other, darker crimes.
Then when you come of age, my child,
Some man that woman bore,
Will take you as his property,
His prisoner and his whore.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Alone we each know our despair,
Together, we are strong.
We'll not give up on any dream,
Or suffer endless wrongs.
Equality and liberty,
We'll strive to realise,
When those who can reach out their hands
Will open up their eyes.
So may your dreams burn strong and bright,
Never let them die,
For dreams you'll surely need, my child,
To help you through your life.
Contributed by Marcia - 2008/6/25 - 10:52
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
"How come that almost nobody seems to give a damn about the most basic human rights of women in Islamic countries like Pakistan, Afganistan, Iran and Iraq - like not even being allowed to phone a relative or leave the house without your husband's permission for fear of death at the hands of a jealous husband? Maybe it's because, as Madelein Albright said (in the context of China), 'We don't want to mix human rights with trade.'" Peter Hicks