أَلا دَعاني اليَومَ داعي النُهى

أَلا دَعاني اليَومَ داعي النُهى

وَقَوَّمَت قِدحِيَ أَيدي الخُطوب

وَقَوَّمَت قِدحِيَ أَيدي الخُطوب

Lo, today the herald of reason called me.

Behold, the summoner to abstinence calls me today,

And the hands of misfortune straightened my arrow shaft.

And the cups of affliction have corrected my inclination,

وَكُنتُ خَفّاقَ جَناحِ الصِبا

وَكُنتُ خَفّاقَ جَناحِ الصِبا

جَرّارَ أَذيالُِ التَصابي سَحوب

جَرّارَ أَذيالُِ التَصابي سَحوب

And I once fluttered the wing of youth,

I was once the flutterer of youth's wing,

Dragging and trailing the skirts of youthful play.

Dragging the train of clouds, a drawer of rain.

فَرُبَّ لَيلٍ أَقمَرٍ بِتُّهُ

فَرُبَّ لَيلٍ أَقمَرٍ بِتُّهُ

مُهتَزَّ أَعطافِ الأَماني طَروب

مُهتَزَّ أَعطافِ الأَماني طَروب

For many a moonlit night I spent

Many a flowered night whose moon was enthroned on high

With the shoulders of hope swaying, enraptured.

Shaking the leaves of the boughs in joyous ecstasy,

هَصَرتُ فيهِ مِن غُضونِ الصِبا

هَصَرتُ فيهِ مِن غُضونِ الصِبا

وَبِتُّ أَجني مِن ثِمارِ الذُنوب

وَبِتُّ أَجني مِن ثِمارِ الذُنوب

There I clasped some of youth’s folds,

Have I passed in the garden of youth culling clusters of grapes

And spent the night gathering some of the fruits of sin.

And pressing the yield of the vine of transgression.

سَيّانِ سَيّانِ صَباحُ المُنى

سَيّانِ سَيّانِ صَباحُ المُنى

إِذا اِنطَوى عَنكَ وَلَيلُ الكُروب

إِذا اِنطَوى عَنكَ وَلَيلُ الكُروب

Alike, alike are the morning of wishes,

But gone, gone is morn of delight,

When it has folded away from you, and the night of woes.

When the night with its garment of suffering comes rol