Soultana - Sawt Nssa ("The Voice of Women")
صوت النساء - سلطانة
Morocco
Released in early 2010. Single re-released on May 2, 2011. Video released on August 8, 2011
Note: Soultana is a member of the group Tigresse Flow. Sawt Nssa is her first solo single.
Jihad Against Jihad Against Jihad by Kendra Saloi, May 2013
Jihad Against Jihad Against Jihad by Kendra Saloi, May 2013
I can't find the Arabic Lyrics (let me know if you do). English translation after the jump...
Every time I met her, all her talk was about him.
I hated him even though I didn't know him. Maybe
I hated him even though I didn't know him. Maybe
because I knew she loved him.
She gave him money, love, and life.
He gave her lies and violence
and made her turn tricks for quick cash.
She's like the girls her age, like the candle
that burned out before the end of the night.
And she said:
Why do you call me a whore?
Do you know how much I have suffered?
Maybe the money wasn't enough for me.
Maybe I was blind. I thought about money.
I thought of life so I chose a life on the street,
wanting to live better, to be better.
Today I lost my beauty.
I'm lost in the dark, in search of the light.
Show me a way. Show me a sign.
This is the Moroccan woman.
This is one of a million.
CHORUS (x2)
The woman's voice is what I'm calling.
The girl's voice that is lost in my country.
The voice of those who want to talk, who want to say:
a voice of all women who want a sign.
She saw in your face the life she lost.
You looked at her like she was a cheap thing.
She saw in your face what she wanted to be.
You looked at her, a look of humiliation.
She's selling her body because you are the buyer.
And when she's walking by, you act all Muslim.
She's prostituting to earn a living for her orphan brothers.
They live in the projects and you live in a mansion.
Please don't insult them. Don't humiliate them.
Don't forget that paradise lies at a mother's feed.
She could be your mother. She could be your sister.
It could be her, me or you.
CHORUS (x2)
I chose my words to show you what I wanted to say.
All of you know what I'm talking about.
Tell me how many mosques were built on ruins.
How many Muslims were a terrorist or a thief?
How many girls lived their nights as hookers?
How many girls returned home to be good mothers?
And are you one of them? Don't ever forget that you are.
A rose is still a rose.
CHORUS (x2)
Women's voices
Girl's voices.
The voice of those who want to talk, who want to say:
a voice of all women who want a sign.
I hated him even though I didn't know him. Maybe
I hated him even though I didn't know him. Maybe
because I knew she loved him.
She gave him money, love, and life.
He gave her lies and violence
and made her turn tricks for quick cash.
She's like the girls her age, like the candle
that burned out before the end of the night.
And she said:
Why do you call me a whore?
Do you know how much I have suffered?
Maybe the money wasn't enough for me.
Maybe I was blind. I thought about money.
I thought of life so I chose a life on the street,
wanting to live better, to be better.
Today I lost my beauty.
I'm lost in the dark, in search of the light.
Show me a way. Show me a sign.
This is the Moroccan woman.
This is one of a million.
CHORUS (x2)
The woman's voice is what I'm calling.
The girl's voice that is lost in my country.
The voice of those who want to talk, who want to say:
a voice of all women who want a sign.
She saw in your face the life she lost.
You looked at her like she was a cheap thing.
She saw in your face what she wanted to be.
You looked at her, a look of humiliation.
She's selling her body because you are the buyer.
And when she's walking by, you act all Muslim.
She's prostituting to earn a living for her orphan brothers.
They live in the projects and you live in a mansion.
Please don't insult them. Don't humiliate them.
Don't forget that paradise lies at a mother's feed.
She could be your mother. She could be your sister.
It could be her, me or you.
CHORUS (x2)
I chose my words to show you what I wanted to say.
All of you know what I'm talking about.
Tell me how many mosques were built on ruins.
How many Muslims were a terrorist or a thief?
How many girls lived their nights as hookers?
How many girls returned home to be good mothers?
And are you one of them? Don't ever forget that you are.
A rose is still a rose.
CHORUS (x2)
Women's voices
Girl's voices.
The voice of those who want to talk, who want to say:
a voice of all women who want a sign.
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