وَبِكْرِand virgin راحٍwine باكَرْتُI sought early مُصْطَبِحاًdrinking in the morning
وَبِكْرِ راحٍ باكَرْتُ مُصْطَبِحاً
صَبُوحَهاits morning draught ماnot أُفَتِّرُI let rest القَدَحاthe goblet
صَبُوحَها ما أُفَتِّرُ القَدَحا
And virgin wine I sought at dawn, drinking
In the early dawn I rose seeking
its morning draught, never letting the goblet rest.
The first cup, never tiring of wine.
خَمْرٌwine إِذاwhen خامَرَتْpervaded فُؤادَthe heart of فَتىًa young man
خَمْرٌ إِذا خامَرَتْ فُؤادَ فَتىً
أَهْدَتْbestowed إِليهِupon him السُّرُورَdelight والفَرَحاand joy
أَهْدَتْ إِليهِ السُّرُورَ والفَرَحا
A wine that, when it pervades a young man's heart,
When wine trickles into the heart of a young man,
bestows on him delight and joy.
It brings him joy and gladness.
كأنَّas though بُقْيَاthe remainder of حَبَابِهاits bubbles عَرَقٌsweat
كأنَّ بُقْيَا حَبَابِها عَرَقٌ
مِنْfrom فَوقِabove وَرْدِthe roses of الْخُدودِthe cheeks قَدْalready رَشَحاhad seeped out
مِنْ فَوقِ وَرْدِ الْخُدودِ قَدْ رَشَحا
As though its lingering bubbles were sweat
As if the rest of its presses were beads
that had welled up upon the roses of cheeks.
Of dew dripping from flushed cheeks.
ماnot اسْتَدَّwas shut بابُthe door of السُّرورِdelight عَنْto أَحَدٍanyone
ما اسْتَدَّ بابُ السُّرورِ عَنْ أَحَدٍ
إِلاbut غَداbecame بِالمُدامِthrough wine مُفْتَتَحاopen
إِلا غَدا بِالمُدامِ مُفْتَتَحا
Never was the door of delight closed to anyone
The door of joy opens for no one
but through wine it became open.
Unless with wine he unlocks it.
Sol 6.1