أَعطَتكَ رَيحانَها العُقارُ

أَعطَتكَ رَيحانَها العُقارُ

وَكانَ مِن لَيلِكَ اِنسِفارُ

وَكانَ مِن لَيلِكَ اِنسِفارُ

The wine has given you its fragrance,

The perfume gave you its basil,

The rich wine has bestowed its basil scent on you,

And your night has begun to brighten.

And your night was illuminated.

At the hour when your night began to fade away.

فَاِنعَم بِها قَبلَ رائِعاتٍ

فَاِنعَم بِها قَبلَ رائِعاتٍ

لا خَمرَ فيها وَلا خُمارُ

لا خَمرَ فيها وَلا خُمارُ

So delight in it before dreadful times

So enjoy it before the maidens arrive,

So enjoy it now, before the dreadful hours arrive,

In which there is neither wine nor hangover.

With no wine in it or veils.

In which there is no wine, nor headache from the wine.

وَوَقِّرِ الكَأسَ عَن سَفيهٍ

وَوَقِّرِ الكَأسَ عَن سَفيهٍ

فَإِنَّ آيِينَها الوِقارُ

فَإِنَّ آيِينَها الوِقارُ

And honor the cup: keep it from a fool,

And respect the cup away from the fool,

And maintain the goblet’s honor against the fool,

For dignity is its custom.

For its essence is dignity.

For gravity and grace are its intended law.

تِخُيِّرَت وَالنُجومُ وَقفٌ

تِخُيِّرَت وَالنُجومُ وَقفٌ

لَم يَتَمَكَّن بِها المَدارُ

لَم يَتَمَكَّن بِها المَدارُ

It was chosen while the stars stood still;

It was chosen while the stars stood still,

It was chosen while the stars stood halting in the sky,

Orbital motion had not yet gained sway over them.

Unable to control its orbit.

Before the celestial spheres began their spinning round.

فَلَم تَزَل تَأكُلُ اللَيالي

فَلَم تَزَل تَأكُلُ اللَيالي

جُثمانَها ما بِها اِنتِصارُ

جُثمانَها ما بِها اِنتِصارُ

And the nights kept consuming

So the nights kept consuming

The passing nights continued to consume its form,

Its body, with no power to resist,

Its body without prevailing over it,

Devouring a body that could not fight back,

حَتّى إِذا ماتَ كُلُّ ذامٍ

حَتّى إِذا ماتَ كُلُّ ذامٍ

وَخُلِّصَ السِرُّ وَالنَجارُ

وَخُلِّصَ السِرُّ وَالنَجارُ

Until, when every blemish had died

Until when every reviler died

Until, when every flaw had perished and dissolved,

And its essence and nature were purified,

And the secret and carpenter perished,

And the secret essence and the root were clarified,

عادَت إِلى جَوهَرٍ لَطيفٍ

عادَت إِلى جَوهَرٍ لَطيفٍ

عِيانُ مَوجودِهِ ضِمارُ

عِيانُ مَوجودِهِ ضِمارُ

It returned to a subtle essence,

It returned to a subtle essence

It returned into a spirit, subtle and refined,

Whose very presence was hidden from sight.

Whose existence is hidden.

Whose presence to the eye is scarce perceptible.

كَأَنَّ في كَأسِها سَراباً

كَأَنَّ في كَأسِها سَراباً

تُخيلُهُ المَهمَهُ القِفارُ

تُخيلُهُ المَهمَهُ القِفارُ

As though a mirage lay in its cup,

As if in its cup an illusion,

As if a shimmering mirage lies within its cup,

Conjured up by the barren wilderness.

Imagined by the barren desert.

Conjured by the imagination of the barren wastes.

كَأَنَّها ذاكَ حينَ تَزهى

كَأَنَّها ذاكَ حينَ تَزهى

لَو لَم يَشُب لَونَها اِصفِرارُ

لَو لَم يَشُب لَونَها اِصفِرارُ

It would seem just that when it gleamed,

As if when it glows,

It resembles that illusion when it shines in pride,

Were its color not tinged with yellow.

Had its color not turned yellow,

If only a golden pallor did not tint its hue.

لا يَنزِلُ اللَيلُ حَيثُ حَلَّت

لا يَنزِلُ اللَيلُ حَيثُ حَلَّت

فَلَيلُ شُرّابِها نَهارُ

فَلَيلُ شُرّابِها نَهارُ

Night does not fall wherever it rests,

The night does not descend where it settled,

Night never settles in the place where it alights,

For its drinkers' night is day.

For the night of its drinker is day.

For the night of those who drink it turns to radiant day.

حَتّى لَوِ اِستودِعَت سِراراً

حَتّى لَوِ اِستودِعَت سِراراً

لَم يَخفَ في ضَوإِها السِرارُ

لَم يَخفَ في ضَوإِها السِرارُ

Even if a secret were entrusted to it,

That even if it kept secrets,

So that if it were entrusted to the moonless dark,

That secret would not stay hidden in its light.

The secrets would not be concealed in its illumination.

The dark could not lie hidden within its brilliant light.

ما أَسكَرَتني الشَمولُ لَكِن

ما أَسكَرَتني الشَمولُ لَكِن

مُديرُ طَرفٍ بِهِ اِحوِرارُ

مُديرُ طَرفٍ بِهِ اِحوِرارُ

It was not the wine that made me drunk, but

Intoxication did not overwhelm me, but

It was not the chilled wine that intoxicated me,

The one who turns an eye of deep black and bright white.

A glance from it dazzled me.

But the bearer of a glance, intense in black and white.