1. The passion has delighted me with my shame in love,
And so I have inclined to the words of the censurers,

2. Passing by my hearing like the passing of the winds.
It is forbidden for me by the religion of love,

3. To heed what the slates proclaim.
And sometimes intoxication increases me,

4. When the ardour of love touches me.
And one day in the heedlessness of the watcher

5. I slaughtered the jugular like the ritual sacrifices.
Living is not living except a cup of ease

6. And a tender cheeked cupbearer,
In a garden whose leaves rustle

7. And its foliage excites me to lament.
And I have dyed the gardens of clove gillyflowers

8. And the drops have kissed the lips of apple blossoms.
I indulged my eyes in those meadows,

9. Where my morning cup makes me joyful.
And the glance of that charming gazelle

10. Intoxicated me without wine. So are you not surprised
At my spirit, that beauty who

11. Revives the regretful with soul and respite?
He seemed with the face of the living, the forebearing,

12. And acts like the wicked shameless one.
We inclined to the racecourses of the wine,

13. And no bird has wings except the winged.
I almost flew in my joy with him,

14. And who flies without wings?
A drunk handsome sleeper,

15. As if intoxication still remained in him.
So I pillowed him with my arm, and he plunged

16. His eyes in mine until the morning.
I embraced in him the place of necklaces

17. And dressed him in place of a face veil.
By God, from the pleasures of youth!

18. By God, from the slips of the shining ones!
From sips I have sipped

19. Which quench my anguish and remedy my wounds.
I say to him, “Can you bear to arise

20. Even if one at rest extends to take rest?"
The roosters of morning have awakened you

21. And we have multiplied the shouts.
He gestured the rising dawn at me

22. And explained outright the word 'rest'.
So I handed him the filled cup

23. And sang to him with correct rhymes.
And so my spinning was all mine

24. And to Salman was all my praise.