1. If wine is now forbidden and denied
And Islam and distress block the way to it,

2. I will take it pure in the morning and drink it
To cure my sadness pure and mix it.

3. And a songstress may stand over my head
Who, when she repeats her singing, has a soft voice,

4. And she raises her voice sometimes and lowers it
Like the buzzing of flies in the shaky garden.