لَأَقطَعَنَّI shall surely sever نِياطَthe heartstring of الهَمِّsorrow بِكاسِwith a cup
لَأَقطَعَنَّ نِياطَ الهَمِّ بِكاسِ
فَلَيسَfor there is no لِلهَمِّfor sorrow مِثلُlike الكاسِthe cup مِنany آسِhealer
فَلَيسَ لِلهَمِّ مِثلُ الكاسِ مِن آسِ
I shall surely sever sorrow's heartstring with a cup;
I shall surely sever the lifelines of worry with a cup,
For sorrow has no healer like the cup.
For worry has no healer comparable to the cup,
فَسَقِّنيهاso give it to me to drink سُلافاًpure, first-run wine سَلسَلاًsmooth to drink حُجِبَتwas kept hidden
فَسَقِّنيها سُلافاً سَلسَلاً حُجِبَت
فيin دَنِّهاits wine jar حِقباًfor ages فيin رُكنِa corner of ديماسِa cellar
في دَنِّها حِقباً في رُكنِ ديماسِ
So pour it for me—pure wine, smooth to drink, kept hidden
So pour me the pure, smooth vintage that was veiled
In its jar for ages, in a cellar's corner.
Inside its cask for ages, in the corner of a dark vault,
صَفراءُyellow تَضحَكُlaughs عِندَat المَزجِthe mixing مِنfrom شَغَبٍmischief
صَفراءُ تَضحَكُ عِندَ المَزجِ مِن شَغَبٍ
كَأَنَّas though أَعيُنَهاits eyes أَنصافُhalves of أَجراسِbells
كَأَنَّ أَعيُنَها أَنصافُ أَجراسِ
Yellow, it laughs mischievously when mixed,
A golden wine that laughs with mischief when mixed,
As though its eyes were half-bells.
As though its bubbles were the halves of ringing bells,
كَأَنَّas though كاساتِناour cups وَاللَيلُand the night مُعتَكِرٌmurky
كَأَنَّ كاساتِنا وَاللَيلُ مُعتَكِرٌ
سُرجٌlamps تَوَقَّدُblaze فيin مِحرابِthe sanctuary of شَمّاسِa deacon
سُرجٌ تَوَقَّدُ في مِحرابِ شَمّاسِ
It is as though our cups, while night is thick with darkness,
It is as if our cups, while the night is murky,
Were lamps blazing in a deacon's sanctuary.
Are lamps glowing within a deacon's sanctuary,
هَذاthis وَذاكَand that وَفِتيانٌand young men لَهُمthey have أَدَبٌrefinement
هَذا وَذاكَ وَفِتيانٌ لَهُم أَدَبٌ
شُمُّlofty الأُنوفِnoses سَراةٌnobles غَيرُnot أَنكاسِbase men
شُمُّ الأُنوفِ سَراةٌ غَيرُ أَنكاسِ
This and that, and young men of refinement—
All this, and with me are youths possessed of refinement,
Nobles with lofty noses, no base fellows.
Haughty of nose, noble lords, and never base,
نازَعتُهُمI shared with them قَهوَةًwine صَفراءَyellow صافِيَةًclear
نازَعتُهُم قَهوَةً صَفراءَ صافِيَةً
بِشادِنٍwith a young gazelle خَنِثٍeffeminate كَالغُصنِlike a branch مَيّاسِgracefully swaying
بِشادِنٍ خَنِثٍ كَالغُصنِ مَيّاسِ
I shared with them wine, yellow and clear,
I exchanged with them a clear, golden wine,
With an effeminate young gazelle, swaying like a branch,
Served by a delicate fawn, swaying like a willow branch,
مُخَنَّثِeffeminate اللَفظِin speech يَسبينيhe captivates me بِمُقلَتِهِwith his eye
مُخَنَّثِ اللَفظِ يَسبيني بِمُقلَتِهِ
مُقَرطَقٍclad in a short tunic قُرَشِيُّQurayshi الوَجهِin face عَبّاسيAbbasid
مُقَرطَقٍ قُرَشِيُّ الوَجهِ عَبّاسي
Effeminate in speech, he captivates me with his eye,
Languid in speech, he captivates me with his glance,
Clad in a short tunic, Qurayshi in face, Abbasid.
Clad in a tunic, Qurayshi of face, Abbasid of line,
كَأَنَّas though إِكليلَهُhis garland تاجُthe crown of اِبنِson of مارِيَةٍMariya
كَأَنَّ إِكليلَهُ تاجُ اِبنِ مارِيَةٍ
إِذwhen راحَhe went forth مُعتَصِباًhead-wreathed بِالوَردِwith roses وَالآسِand myrtle
إِذ راحَ مُعتَصِباً بِالوَردِ وَالآسِ
His garland seemed like the crown of Ibn Mariya,
As if his wreath were the crown of Ibn Mariya,
When he went forth, his head wreathed with roses and myrtle.
When he went forth bound in roses and myrtle,
وَقَدand sometimes يُغَنّيكَhe sings to you مِنfrom سُكرٍdrunkenness وَمِنand from طَرَبٍrapture
وَقَد يُغَنّيكَ مِن سُكرٍ وَمِن طَرَبٍ
وَالكَأسُand the cup تَختالُstruts مِنfrom ساقٍa cupbearer إِلىto حاسيa drinker
وَالكَأسُ تَختالُ مِن ساقٍ إِلى حاسي
And sometimes he sings to you out of drunkenness and rapture,
And he sings to you, out of intoxication and rapture,
While the cup struts from cupbearer to drinker.
While the cup parades proudly from server to sipper,
لِلَّهِto God دَرُّكَyour excellence قَدindeed عَذَّبتَنيyou have tormented me حُرَقاًburning pangs
لِلَّهِ دَرُّكَ قَد عَذَّبتَني حُرَقاً
بِالقُربِwith nearness وَالبُعدِand distance وَالإِطماعِand raising hopes وَالياسِand despair
بِالقُربِ وَالبُعدِ وَالإِطماعِ وَالياسِ
God bless you! You have tormented me with burning pangs,
By God, how you have tortured me with burning agony,
With nearness and distance, with hope held out and despair.
Through nearness and distance, through temptation and despair
Sol 6.1