يا صاحِ كَم تُفّاحَةٍ غَضَّةٍ

يا صاحِ كَم تُفّاحَةٍ غَضَّةٍ

يَحمِلُها في الرَوضِ غُصنٌ رَطيب

يَحمِلُها في الرَوضِ غُصنٌ رَطيب

O friend, how many a fresh apple

O my friend, how many a tender apple

O friend, how many a fresh apple,

A supple bough bears in the garden,

Borne by a fragrant branch in the garden

Borne in the garden by a tender branch,

ناضِجَةٍ تَرتَجُّ في جَوِّها

ناضِجَةٍ تَرتَجُّ في جَوِّها

مِثلَ اِرتِجاجِ الشَمسِ عِندَ المَغيب

مِثلَ اِرتِجاجِ الشَمسِ عِندَ المَغيب

Ripe, quivering in the air around it,

Ripening, quivering in its air

Ripe, trembling in the air,

Like the sun's trembling at sunset.

Like the sun's quivering at sunset

Like the trembling of the sun at sunset.

حَرَّضَكَ الوَجدُ عَلى قَطفِها

حَرَّضَكَ الوَجدُ عَلى قَطفِها

لَمّا غَفا الواشي وَنامَ الرَقيب

لَمّا غَفا الواشي وَنامَ الرَقيب

Longing urged you to pluck it

Passion tempted you to pluck it

Passion incited you to pluck it,

When the tale-bearer dozed and the watcher slept.

When the guard was sleeping and the watcher nodding

When the slanderer dozed and the guardian slept.

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

رََِعَت عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

رََِعَت عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

But for a reason you know best,

But for a reason you know better than I

Yet, for a reason you know best,

You drew back from it like one in doubt.

You shrank from it, recoiling warily

You turned back from it, like one filled with doubt.

تَقولُ لِلنَفسِ الطَموحِ اِقسُري

تَقولُ لِلنَفسِ الطَموحِ اِقسُري

ما سِرقَةُ التُفّاحِ شَأنَ الأَريب

ما سِرقَةُ التُفّاحِ شَأنَ الأَريب

You tell your aspiring soul, 'Restrain yourself;

Say to your venturesome soul, hold back!

Saying to the ambitious soul, "Hold back,"

Stealing apples is no business for the wise.'

Stealing apples is no worthy labour

"Stealing apples is not the way of the wise."

وَرُبَّ صَفراءَ كَلَونِ الضُحى

وَرُبَّ صَفراءَ كَلَونِ الضُحى

يَنفي بِها أَهلُ الكُروبِ الكُروب

يَنفي بِها أَهلُ الكُروبِ الكُروب

And many a golden wine, the color of morning,

And many a yellow one, dawn-coloured

And how many a golden wine, like the hue of mid-morning,

With which the sorrowful banish their sorrows,

Can drive away the gloom of spirits in despair

With which the sorrowful banish their griefs.

دارَت عَلى الشَربِ بِها غادَةٌ

دارَت عَلى الشَربِ بِها غادَةٌ

كَأَنَّها ظَبيُ الكِناسِ الرَبيب

كَأَنَّها ظَبيُ الكِناسِ الرَبيب

A maiden passed round among the drinkers,

A roe turned it in her mouth, then passed it by

A maiden circulated it among the drinkers,

As though she were a gazelle reared in its covert.

As though it were the perfumed kiss of a beloved

As if she were a gazelle of the thicket, raised tame.

في طَرفِكَ الساجي هُيامٌ بِها

في طَرفِكَ الساجي هُيامٌ بِها

وَبَينَ أَحشاءَكَ شَوقٌ مُذيب

وَبَينَ أَحشاءَكَ شَوقٌ مُذيب

In your languid gaze is longing for it,

In your soft glance it stirred a fond craving

In your quiet glance was a desperate love for her,

And deep within you, a yearning that melts you.

And kindled in your heart consuming longing

And within your chest, a melting longing.

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

رَجَعتَ عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

رَجَعتَ عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

But for a reason you know best,

But for a reason you know better than I

Yet, for a reason you know best,

You drew back from it like one in doubt.

You shrank from it, recoiling warily

You turned back from her, like one filled with doubt.

تَقولُ لِلنَفسِ الطَموحِ اِقصُري

تَقولُ لِلنَفسِ الطَموحِ اِقصُري

ما غُرَّ بِالصَهباءِ يَوماً لَبيب

ما غُرَّ بِالصَهباءِ يَوماً لَبيب

You tell your aspiring soul, 'Desist;

Say to your venturesome soul, hold back!

Saying to the ambitious soul, "Desist,"

No wise man was ever beguiled by tawny wine.

Never was seduced by blondes one sensible or wise

"Never is a sensible man deluded by wine."

إِيّاك وَإِيّاكَ أَكوابَها

إِيّاك وَإِيّاكَ أَكوابَها

أُختُ الخَنا هَذي وَأُمُّ الذُنوب

أُختُ الخَنا هَذي وَأُمُّ الذُنوب

Beware, beware of its cups!

Beware, beware her brimming cups!

"Beware, oh beware of its cups,"

This is the sister of lewdness and the mother of sins.'

Sister of treachery, mother of sins

"This is the sister of vice and the mother of sins."

وَكَم شِفاهٍ أُرجُوانِيَّةٍ

وَكَم شِفاهٍ أُرجُوانِيَّةٍ

كَأَنَّها مَخضوبَةٌ بَِلَّهيب

كَأَنَّها مَخضوبَةٌ بَِلَّهيب

And how many crimson lips,

And many the rosy lips like those

And how many crimson lips,

As though they were dyed with flame,

Dyed as with flame of burning coal

As if they were dyed with flame.

ساعَدَكَ الدَهرُ عَلى لَأمِها

ساعَدَكَ الدَهرُ عَلى لَأمِها

وَرَشفِ ما خَلفَ اللَهيبِ العَجيب

وَرَشفِ ما خَلفَ اللَهيبِ العَجيب

Fortune helped you kiss,

Fortune aided you to enjoy them

Fate aided you to reach them,

And sip what lay behind that wondrous flame.

And to drain what lay beyond that wondrous flame

And to sip the wonder lying behind the fire.

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

لَكِن لِأَمرٍ أَنتَ أَدرى بِهِ

رَجَعَت عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

رَجَعَت عَنها رَجعَةَ المُستَريب

But for a reason you know best,

But for a reason you know better than I

Yet, for a reason you know best,

You drew back from them like one in doubt.

You shrank from it, recoiling warily

You turned back from them, like one filled with doubt.

تُعَنِّفُ القَلبَ عَلى غَيِّهِ

تُعَنِّفُ القَلبَ عَلى غَيِّهِ

وَتَعذُلُ العَينَ الَّتي لا تُنيب

وَتَعذُلُ العَينَ الَّتي لا تُنيب

You rebuke your heart for its waywardness,

You chide your heart for its caprice

Violently rebuking the heart for its error,

And chide the eye that will not repent.

And rebuke the eye that will not heed

And blaming the eye that would not repent.

قَتَلتَ نَزعاتِكَ في مَهدِها

قَتَلتَ نَزعاتِكَ في مَهدِها

وَلَم تُطِع في الحُبِّ حَتّى الحَبيب

وَلَم تُطِع في الحُبِّ حَتّى الحَبيب

You killed your impulses in their cradle,

You killed your passions in their cradle

You killed your impulses in their cradle,

And in love did not heed even your beloved.

Nor in love obeyed even the beloved

And obeyed not even the beloved in matters of love.

وَالآنَ لَمّا اِنجابَ عَنكَ الصِبى

وَالآنَ لَمّا اِنجابَ عَنكَ الصِبى

وَلاحَ في المَفرِقِ ثَلجُ المَشيب

وَلاحَ في المَفرِقِ ثَلجُ المَشيب

And now, when youth has departed from you,

And now when age has freed you

And now, when youth has cleared away from you,

And the snow of gray hair gleams at your hair's parting,

And frost glitters on your temples

And the snow of age gleams in the parting of your hair,

وَاِستَسلَمَ القَلبُ كَما اِستَسلَمَت

وَاِستَسلَمَ القَلبُ كَما اِستَسلَمَت

نَفسُكَ لِليَأسِ المَخوفِ الرَهيب

نَفسُكَ لِليَأسِ المَخوفِ الرَهيب

And your heart has surrendered, as has

And your heart surrenders, as your own life

And the heart has surrendered, just as surrendered

Your soul, to dreaded, terrifying despair,

Surrendered to grim, fearful despair

Your soul to a fearful, terrible despair,

أَراكَ لِلحَسرَةِ تَبكي كَما

أَراكَ لِلحَسرَةِ تَبكي كَما

يَبكي عَلى النائي الغَريبِ الغَريب

يَبكي عَلى النائي الغَريبِ الغَريب

I see you weeping in regret, as

I see you mournfully weep

I see you weeping out of regret, as

An exile weeps for a distant exile.

As weeps for the remote, the lonely stranger

A stranger weeps for a stranger far away.

تَوَدُّ لَو أَنَّ الصِبى عائِدٌ

تَوَدُّ لَو أَنَّ الصِبى عائِدٌ

هَيهاتَ قَد مَرَّ الزَمانُ القَشيب

هَيهاتَ قَد مَرَّ الزَمانُ القَشيب

You wish that youth would return—

You wish that youth would come again

You wish that youth would return;

Too late! Those fresh, splendid days have passed.

Alas no more returns that hoary past

Far from it! The splendid time has passed.

خَلِّ البُكا يا صاحِبي وَالأَسى

خَلِّ البُكا يا صاحِبي وَالأَسى

اللَيلُ لا يُقصيهِ عَنكَ النَحيب

اللَيلُ لا يُقصيهِ عَنكَ النَحيب

Leave off weeping and sorrow, my friend;

Spare your tears, my friend, and sorrow

Abandon weeping, my friend, and sorrow;

Wailing will not drive the night away from you.

Night is not outlasted by lamentation

The night is not driven away by wailing.

لا خَيرَ في الشَيءِ اِنقَضى وَقتُهُ

لا خَيرَ في الشَيءِ اِنقَضى وَقتُهُ

ما لِقَتيلٍ حاجَةٌ بِالطَبيب

ما لِقَتيلٍ حاجَةٌ بِالطَبيب

There is no good in a thing whose time has passed;

When a thing's time has passed, no good remains

There is no good in a thing whose time is over;

A slain man has no need of a physician.

The slain needs no physician for his pain

The slain man has no need for a physician.