وَصفراء لولا نَفحُها وَمذاقها

وَصفراء لولا نَفحُها وَمذاقها

لقلتُ نُضارٌ في الأَباريق ذائبُ

لقلتُ نُضارٌ في الأَباريق ذائبُ

And a golden wine—were it not for its fragrance and taste,

Her pale yellow, were it not for its fragrance and taste

I would have said: pure gold, molten in the pitchers.

I would have said a vigor dissolved in jugs

من الماء فيها للحباب عمائمٌ

من الماء فيها للحباب عمائمٌ

ولِلنّور منها في الأَكُفِّ ذوائِب

ولِلنّور منها في الأَكُفِّ ذوائِب

Within it, the bubbles have turbans of water,

Of water wearing in them for bubbles turbans

and in the hands, the light from it has tresses.

And for light from it in palms, trains