From that ancient hour when you bound woman's fate to a m

From that ancient hour when you bound woman's fate to a mythical sin, and burdened her forever with the weight of "the first transgression," as though you had robbed her of reason and stripped her of courage
how is it that now you deem yourselves worthy of freedom, while she remains confined to laws you have carved for her from the very beginning?
You say woman belongs to the cage, and man to the horizons? Then behold this thirty year old girl whom society calls "soured", and that thirty year old man whom they call "wise" for his business ventures. What scale is this, whose one pan measures the fading freshness of the body, and the other, the accumulation of coins and capital?

A man entangled in the cocoon of love is called "mature", while a woman who offers her body to the plunder of public gaze is deemed "ruined" How alien this world is to its own logic! Those who know not from which table they have tasted forbidden fruit, yet seek the pristine purity of others
as if honour means nothing but the imprisonment of the tongue and the silence of woman
Tell me, what kind of honour is that, built upon the foundation of muteness?

The powerful ones confined to their homes
those who condemn woman to the chamber of the house
are they themselves content with this narrowness, that they impose it upon others? You taught them to follow the caravan, to hide their heads beneath the veil of fate, lest the cat of ill-repute raise its horn of protest
And in the end, to offer themselves to one who demands from them nothing but perpetual childbearing, absolute cleanliness, and ceaseless sacrifice
while they themselves do nothing at all

And now you call this ancient routine "law"? This captivity, "love"? This plunder, "family"? And this humiliation, "motherhood"?

Ah, what filthy human beings... who drape the names of the pure over their own impurities