1. Turn the sun of spikenard in the darkness upon the soft sands, O sun of daytime.
A wine cup whose color appears liberated like the opposites of water and fire.

2. And a cupbearer like a bough of acacia, flowing easily,
Has colored us with the redness and blushing of intoxication.

3. The bracelet was congested so it bit a smooth part of her wrist,
For her who would kiss my bracelet if I asked.

4. Does the thread of her acacia necklace bear a glowing ember,
With which it sets her cheeks ablaze from its sparks?

5. Remove gravity from me through her, for I see
The doffing of modesty upon the spikenard.

6. And give me drink below you until you see me
Wept for tomorrow by the veiled women.

7. No worries can be consoled like drinking carefree
Wine whose intoxication wanders in the night aimlessly.

8. When the armies of worries attack and retreat,
The armies of worries signal their flight.

9. So meet her early at the two limpid waters between
The encampments, of which one flows and one is still.

10. When the breeze blows upon it, it shows us
The pattern of the water skin as it sails by.