I am not shy when I speak out frankly of your reality
That a yard of hogs is much cleaner than all of you
May the bench of washing the dead move,
But you are immovable
Now I expose/undress you
In all the capitals of this Arab World
You have killed my gaiety
In every alley I see al-Azlam (the idols) Amami (before me)
Till I became avoiding even the phone
Even the walls and even the children
Vomiting for this crude method

Let us sit before the feet of the Arabian Desert
To let her pass a judgment on us
I admit before the Desert
That I am a banal, scoundrel and sad
As your defeat
O defeated honorable men
O defeated rulers
O defeated people
How dirty, how dirty, how dirty we are.
How dirty we are,
I don't exclude any one.