1. My heart is torn remembering loved ones and the fever,
And good old days whose time did not grow old,

2. If you wish to make me happy and have mercy,
My friends get up and serve me your drink,

3. A draft of wine, bitter in taste, pure.
It has a love that surpassed nights in concealment

4. And did not wrap itself except around waists like it,
So initiate and take it, O Sama, carefully,

5. In the palm of a boon companion, if his face appeared,
Jacob did not despair over losing Joseph.