1. With wine pure and boon companions fair of face,
Whom revelry maketh e'en fairer to see.

2. Wine that though 'twere unquaffed would inebriate, Still at the pourers' hands more inebriate be!
Coy beauties, when the dawn of day is nigh, Depart; but grey hairs from the dawn hold me.

3. Youth went; I made fair eyes that wept his loss My solace, kissing lids that o'er them be.
In a lone, desert land cut off there lies A tomb, hid under piled-up hillocks three;

4. Whereon with freshened tears the clouds do rain, Graving full many a track and trace that flee.
A sun of beauty she, a moon at full, A proud gazelle, a mountain hind is she.

5. Pearls on her breast and collar-bones are strung Close, close together in twin rows linked free.
As though upon her back were brocade spread With further semblance wrought in tracery.

6. So blacks her legs, they and her legs' calves, too, Might pass for marble columns twain or three!