أَعاذِلُ ما عَلى مِثلي سَبيلُ

أَعاذِلُ ما عَلى مِثلي سَبيلُ

وَعَذلُكَ في المُدامَةِ يَستَحيلُ

وَعَذلُكَ في المُدامَةِ يَستَحيلُ

O reprover, there are no grounds to blame one like me.

I'm blamed for what's not my way,

O blamer, you have no sway over a soul like mine,

And your reproach over wine is futile.

And your blaming wine's not right.

And your censure regarding the old wine is utterly in vain.

أَعاذِلُ لا تَلُمني في هَواها

أَعاذِلُ لا تَلُمني في هَواها

فَإِنَّ عِتابَنا فيها يَطولُ

فَإِنَّ عِتابَنا فيها يَطولُ

O reprover, do not blame me for loving it,

Don't blame my love, my dear,

O critic, do not rebuke me for my passion for her,

for our quarrel over it goes on at length.

Our blame would just prolong.

For our dispute regarding this would stretch on endlessly.

كِلانا يَدَّعي في الخَمرِ عِلماً

كِلانا يَدَّعي في الخَمرِ عِلماً

فَدَعني لا أَقولُ وَلا تَقولُ

فَدَعني لا أَقولُ وَلا تَقولُ

We both claim knowledge of wine,

We both claim knowledge of wine;

We both lay claim to wisdom concerning the vine,

so leave me be: I will not speak, nor will you.

Let me be quiet, you be tight.

So leave me be; speak not, and I shall say no more.

أَلَيسَ مَطِيَّتي حِقوَي غُلامٍ

أَلَيسَ مَطِيَّتي حِقوَي غُلامٍ

وَرَحلَ أَنامِلي كَأسٌ شَمولُ

وَرَحلَ أَنامِلي كَأسٌ شَمولُ

Is not my mount a youth's two hips,

Is not my steed a slave boy's rag?

Is not my steed the slender flanks of a young lad,

and a cup of wine the saddle for my fingers?

My camel bags are drinking mugs.

And the reins within my fingers a cup of chilled vintage?

إِذا كانَت بَناتُ الكَرمِ شُربي

إِذا كانَت بَناتُ الكَرمِ شُربي

وَقِبلَةَ وَجهِيَ الحُسنُ الجَميلُ

وَقِبلَةَ وَجهِيَ الحُسنُ الجَميلُ

If the daughters of the vine are my drink,

When grapes give freely of their wine,

If the daughters of the vineyard are my chosen potion,

and lovely beauty the prayer-direction I face,

My fair face is their drinking cup.

And the prayer-niche of my gaze is Beauty most fair,

أَمِنتُ بِذَينِ عاقِبَةَ اللَيالي

أَمِنتُ بِذَينِ عاقِبَةَ اللَيالي

وَهانَ عَلَيَّ ما قالَ العَذولُ

وَهانَ عَلَيَّ ما قالَ العَذولُ

with these two I am safe from what the nights may bring,

I fear not what nights have in store,

Then by these two, I am secure against the turns of Fate,

and what the reprover says matters little to me.

No matter what the slanderer's said.

And lightly weighs upon me whatever the critic says.

وَمُعتَدِلٍ إِلَيَّ بِشَطرِ عَينٍ

وَمُعتَدِلٍ إِلَيَّ بِشَطرِ عَينٍ

لَهُ مِن كَسرِ ناظِرِهِ رَسولُ

لَهُ مِن كَسرِ ناظِرِهِ رَسولُ

And one inclined toward me with a half-glance,

And she whose eyes incline to me

And many a balanced form leans toward me with a sidelong glance,

his lowered gaze serving as his messenger.

Sends glances that bear messages.

Sending a silent messenger through the languor of his eye.

صَرَفتُ الكَأسَ عَنهُ حينَ غَنّى

صَرَفتُ الكَأسَ عَنهُ حينَ غَنّى

وَأَنَّ لِسانَهُ مِنها ثَقيلُ

وَأَنَّ لِسانَهُ مِنها ثَقيلُ

I turned the cup away from him when he sang,

I turned the cup from him when he sang,

I turned the goblet away from him the moment that he sang,

and his tongue was heavy from it:

His tongue made heavy by the wine.

For I perceived his tongue had grown heavy from the draught.

أَرِحني قَد تَرَفَّعَتِ الثُرَيّا

أَرِحني قَد تَرَفَّعَتِ الثُرَيّا

وَغالَت جُنحَ لَيلي عَنكَ غولُ

وَغالَت جُنحَ لَيلي عَنكَ غولُ

“Let me rest; the Pleiades have risen high,

Leave me, the Pleiades have risen high,

Grant me relief, for the Pleiades have ascended high,

and a ghoul has snatched my night's darkness away from you.”

My night has spread its wings, farewell!

And a demon of the dawn has snatched the wing of my night from thee.