They have made Noorjahan stand in a hole in the courtyard.
There she stands submerged to her waist, her head hanging.
They're throwing stones at Noorjahan,
stones that are striking my body.
I feel them on my head, forehead, chest, back,
and I hear laughing, shouts of abuse.

Noorjahan's fractured forehead pours out blood, mine also.
Noorjahan's eyes have burst, mine also.
Noorjahan's nose has been smashed, mine also.
Noorjahan's torn breast and heart have been pierced, mine also.

Are these stones not striking you?

They're laughing aloud, laughing and stroking their beards.
Even their caps, stuck to their heads, are shaking with laughter.
They're laughing and swinging their walking sticks.
From the quiver of their cruel eyes,
Arrows speed to pierce her body,
My body also.

Are these arrows not piercing your body?