لاحَshone forth الصُبوحَthe morning draught وَبَهجَةand the delight الاِوقاتof the hours
لاحَ الصُبوحَ وَبَهجَة الاِوقات
فَاِشرَبso drink وَعاطand serve الصَبthe lovelorn one بِالكاساتwith cups
فَاِشرَب وَعاط الصَب بِالكاسات
The morning draught and the delight of the hours shine forth.
The morning shines with the joy of times
So drink, and offer cups to the lovelorn one.
So drink and give the cups to sobriety
وَاِحلِبand draw forth بِراحِكwith your wine لِلقُلوبِfor the hearts تَروحاrefreshment
وَاِحلِب بِراحِك لِلقُلوبِ تَروحا
فَالراحfor wine تُبدِعcreates نَشأةthe birth اللَذّاتof pleasures
فَالراح تُبدِع نَشأة اللَذّات
And with your wine draw refreshment for the hearts,
Delight the hearts with your comfort
For wine gives birth to pleasures.
For comfort engenders the genesis of pleasures
وَاِنهَضand rise فديتُكmay I be your ransom فَالزَمانfor Time مراقبيmy watcher
وَاِنهَض فديتُك فَالزَمان مراقبي
ماwhat الحَظgood fortune ليfor me فيin كُلevery يَومday آتىto come
ما الحَظ لي في كُل يَوم آتى
And rise—may I be your ransom—for Time keeps watch over me.
Arise, my beloved, for time is watching me
What fortune is mine in each day to come?
No luck have I in each day that comes
وَدَعand leave الوُشاةthe slanderers وَماand what تَقولsay عَواذِليmy reproachers
وَدَع الوُشاة وَما تَقول عَواذِلي
فَالعَينُfor the essence عَينيmy essence وَالصِفاتُand the attributes صِفاتيmy attributes
فَالعَينُ عَيني وَالصِفاتُ صِفاتي
Leave the slanderers and what my reproachers say,
Leave the slanderers and what the censurers say
For the essence is my essence, and the attributes my attributes.
For the eye is my eye and qualities my qualities
دَعنيleave me وَماand what لاقىsuffered الفُؤادَthe heart بِحُبِّهاthrough loving her
دَعني وَما لاقى الفُؤادَ بِحُبِّها
لماwhen صَباgrew enamored بِشَقائِقَwith the anemones الوُجناتِof cheeks
لما صَبا بِشَقائِقَ الوُجناتِ
Leave me to what the heart has suffered in loving her,
Leave me and what my heart encountered in its love
When it grew enamored of the cheeks' anemones.
When it was struck by the anemones of the cheeks
لاno غروانwonder if كانَwas الرَشيقthe graceful one يُديرُهاpassing her round
لا غروان كانَ الرَشيق يُديرُها
فيin مَعهَدِthe haunt الغُزلانِof gazelles وَالباناتand bān trees
في مَعهَدِ الغُزلانِ وَالبانات
No wonder, if the graceful one was passing her round
No wonder the graceful one was turning it
In the haunt of gazelles and bān trees.
In the school of the gazelles and beauties
فَأَناfor I am اثيرfavored بظلin the shade رَوضof the garden كرومهاof her vines
فَأَنا اثير بظل رَوض كرومها
وَلَوand even if اِنindeed فيin عَتقيmy freedom شَهىthe delight حَياتيof my life
وَلَو اِن في عَتقي شَهى حَياتي
For I am favored in the shade of the garden of her vines,
So I flutter in the shade of her garden’s vines
Even if in my freedom lay my life's delight.
And if in my neck is the rapture of my life
وَأَناand I am الشَهيدthe martyr بِحُبِّfor love of ذَوقٍtasting عَصيرِهاher juice
وَأَنا الشَهيد بِحُبِّ ذَوقٍ عَصيرِها
اِنif كانَis فيin حببthe bubbles الكُؤسِof the cups مَماتىmy death
اِن كانَ في حبب الكُؤسِ مَماتى
And I am a martyr for love of tasting her juice,
And I am the martyr with the taste of its juice
If my death lies in the bubbles of the cups.
If there is death in the cups of drink
جَهلdid not know العَواذِلthe reproachers ماwhat تُريدُseeks بِشُربِهاby drinking her
جَهل العَواذِل ما تُريدُ بِشُربِها
نَفسيmy soul وَماand what تَلقىencounters مِنَof السَكراتintoxications
نَفسي وَما تَلقى مِنَ السَكرات
The reproachers knew not what was sought in drinking her
The censurers’ ignorance - what they want with their drinking
By my soul, nor what throes of drunkenness it encounters,
Is my soul and what it gets from intoxications
وَتَسلياand solace عَنfrom جَفوَةestrangement أَمor صَبوَةyearning
وَتَسليا عَن جَفوَة أَم صَبوَة
لِفُؤاديfor my heart المَضنىthe exhausted مِنَby الحَسراتregrets
لِفُؤادي المَضنى مِنَ الحَسرات
And solace from estrangement or yearning
And a consolation from a harsh or tender
For my heart, worn down by regrets.
Heart for my suffering heart from regrets
شَتانhow far apart بَينَbetween ظُنونِهِمtheir suspicions وَسَرائِريand my inmost secrets
شَتان بَينَ ظُنونِهِم وَسَرائِري
وَاللَهُand God يَعلَمُknows مُنتَهىthe utmost reach غاياتيof my aims
وَاللَهُ يَعلَمُ مُنتَهى غاياتي
How far apart are their suspicions and my inmost secrets!
Much difference between their suspicions and my secrets
And God knows the utmost reach of my aims.
And God knows the extent of my goals
كَمhow often باتَتspent the night الاِحداقُthe eyes يَسقىwaters طلهاtheir dew
كَم باتَت الاِحداقُ يَسقى طلها
رَوضthe garden الجَوىof lovesickness وَحَدائِقَand the gardens اللَوعاتِof anguish
رَوض الجَوى وَحَدائِقَ اللَوعاتِ
How often the eyes spent the night, their dew watering
How many nights the eyelids watered their thirst
The garden of lovesickness and the gardens of anguish.
The garden of ardour and orchards of yearnings
ياO عاذِليmy reproacher كُفcease المَلامthe blame فَاِنَّنيfor indeed I am
يا عاذِلي كُف المَلام فَاِنَّني
صَبa lovelorn one بَدتhave appeared بَينَamong الوَرىhumankind آياتيmy signs
صَب بَدت بَينَ الوَرى آياتي
O my reproacher, cease your blame, for I am
Oh my censurer, stop blaming, for I am
A lovelorn one whose signs have appeared among humankind.
A lover whose signs appeared amongst mankind
قُلsay ماwhat تَشاءُyou wish فَانfor indeed قَولَكyour speech مطربيenraptures me
قُل ما تَشاءُ فَان قَولَك مطربي
وَحَديثُand talk of منthe one whom أَهوىI love دواthe cure for عَلاتيmy ailments
وَحَديثُ من أَهوى دوا عَلاتي
Say what you wish, for your speech enraptures me,
Say what you will, for your words give me joy
And talk of the one I love is the cure for my ailments.
And talk of whom I love is cure for my ailments
اِنif شِئتَyou wish لِمنىblame me أَوor فَهَدِّدthen threaten وَاِنهَنىand forbid me
اِن شِئتَ لِمنى أَو فَهَدِّد وَاِنهَنى
فَأَليمfor the pain لَومِكَof your reproach فيin الهَوىlove لِذاتيmy delights
فَأَليم لَومِكَ في الهَوى لِذاتي
If you wish, blame me, or else threaten and forbid me,
If you wish, blame me or threaten me or prohibit me
For the pain of your reproach in love is my delight.
For your blame in love is sweet to my senses
لَعِبتُtoyed بيwith me الاِشجانُsorrows حَتّىuntil اِنَّنيindeed I
لَعِبتُ بي الاِشجانُ حَتّى اِنَّني
لَمnot أَدرِknow مَنwhom أَهوىI love وَمَنand who هِيَit ذاتيmy own self
لَم أَدرِ مَن أَهوى وَمَن هِيَ ذاتي
Sorrows toyed with me until I
The passions played with me until I
Did not know whom I loved, nor who my own self was.
Know not whom I love or who is my beloved
وَرَساand moored بيwith me الشَوقُlonging الخؤنthe treacherous لِمَعهَدat a haunt
وَرَسا بي الشَوقُ الخؤن لِمَعهَد
أَهُوَis it اللَظىhellfire أَمor غُرفَةُa chamber الجَنّاتِof Paradise's gardens
أَهُوَ اللَظى أَم غُرفَةُ الجَنّاتِ
And treacherous longing moored me at a haunt—
And desire settled me in the sorrowful abode
Is it hellfire, or a chamber in Paradise's gardens?
Is it the flames or the chambers of Paradise?
Sol 6.1