I've reached su'ret Arafa', and today I am feeling rather thin.

And those that stand in thirst,

In a heated hell of swelling personnel,

Hundreds of thousands of people pushing the gates of hell,

As the angels' stand in guard with the keys to hell,

They reach up calling their families', with fading voices they do scream,

As we purities overview their pangs of vocal tunes',

For a drip, from the cooling waters stand,

Echoing one after another, in punishments', for their thirsty lies',

Of worlds material thrives.

Boiling water from heads of brittle branches',

They, the dwellers of hell, do drink,

A vile bowl of scolding water,

As they and their cause of punishments do rethink,

Again, and again, they do drink, from a tasteless scolding bowl of punishments and rethink.