طربتُ متى كنتُ غيرَ الطرُوبِ

طربتُ متى كنتُ غيرَ الطرُوبِ

فلم أُعْرِ طِرْفَ الصّبا من ركوبِ

فلم أُعْرِ طِرْفَ الصّبا من ركوبِ

I felt rapture—when was I ever not rapturous?

I rejoiced whenever I was free from anxiety,

So I never left the steed of youth unridden:

Never sparing a glance for the morning breeze when riding,

فيوْماً إلى سَبْيِ زقّ رَويٍّ

فيوْماً إلى سَبْيِ زقّ رَويٍّ

ويوْماً إلى صَيْدِ ظبْيٍ ربيبِ

ويوْماً إلى صَيْدِ ظبْيٍ ربيبِ

One day to capture a brimming wineskin,

One day enslaved by a gazelle with slender legs,

And one day to hunt a hand-reared gazelle.

Another by hunting a delicate, young gazelle,

ومهما كبَا بي فمن نشوَةٍ

ومهما كبَا بي فمن نشوَةٍ

يوافِقُها بين كأسٍ وكوبِ

يوافِقُها بين كأسٍ وكوبِ

And whenever it stumbled beneath me, it was from intoxication

And however much sorrow befell me, it was from delight

That it encountered between winecup and goblet.

Matched by wine between cup and goblet,

لياليَ بينَ المَهَا غَيْرَةٌ

لياليَ بينَ المَهَا غَيْرَةٌ

عليّ تخوضُ بها في حرُوبِ

عليّ تخوضُ بها في حرُوبِ

Nights when jealousy stirred among the oryx-eyed beauties,

My nights between beauties filled with jealousy

Over me, for which they plunged into wars.

With which she crosses swords in wars,

ولو أنّ قِدْحَ شبابي أُجِيلَ

ولو أنّ قِدْحَ شبابي أُجِيلَ

على الشمس لاختارَها في نصيبِ

على الشمس لاختارَها في نصيبِ

And had the lot-arrow of my youth been cast

If the wine of my youth were delayed

With the sun at stake, it would have chosen her as its share.

She would choose it as her fate,

وتَزْحَمُني كُلّ فتّانةٍ

وتَزْحَمُني كُلّ فتّانةٍ

بتفّاحةٍ غَلّفَتْها بِطِيبِ

بتفّاحةٍ غَلّفَتْها بِطِيبِ

And every enchantress presses against me

Every coquette jostles me

With an apple she has swathed in perfume.

With an apple wrapped in perfume,

ويُطْلِقُني من عقالِ العناقِ

ويُطْلِقُني من عقالِ العناقِ

صَباحٌ يُنَبّهُ عينَ الرّقيبِ

صَباحٌ يُنَبّهُ عينَ الرّقيبِ

And I am freed from the tether of embrace

A morning releases me from the fetters of embrace

By a dawn that awakens the watcher's eye.

Awakening the eye of the sentinel,

وفي كَبِدي جرْحُ لحظٍ عليلٍ

وفي كَبِدي جرْحُ لحظٍ عليلٍ

وفي عَضُدي عضّ ثغرٍ شنيبِ

وفي عَضُدي عضّ ثغرٍ شنيبِ

And in my liver, a wound from a languid glance,

In my liver is the wound of a fleeting glance

And on my upper arm, the bite of a cool, sweet mouth.

And in my shoulder the bite of a sharp tooth,

ورَيحانةٍ أُمّها كرمة

ورَيحانةٍ أُمّها كرمة

تَنَفّسُ في كفِّ غصن رطيبِ

تَنَفّسُ في كفِّ غصن رطيبِ

And a fragrant sprig whose mother is a vine,

A basil plant whose mother is a vine

Breathing in the palm of a tender bough,

Breathes into the palm of a fresh branch,

مُعتّقة في يَدَيْ راهبٍ

مُعتّقة في يَدَيْ راهبٍ

على دنّها ختْمُهُ بالصّليبِ

على دنّها ختْمُهُ بالصّليبِ

Aged in the hands of a monk,

Held in the hands of an ascetic

Upon its wine-jar is his seal, marked with the cross.

Sealed to his robe with a cross,

إذا أمْرَضَتْكَ وخفتَ الصّبُوحَ

إذا أمْرَضَتْكَ وخفتَ الصّبُوحَ

فَمُمْرِضُها لك غَيْرُ الطبيبِ

فَمُمْرِضُها لك غَيْرُ الطبيبِ

If it sickens you and you fear the morning draught,

If she sickens you and you fear the morning

Then whoever sickens it for you is no physician.

Your nurse is none but the physician,

تباكرُ من صَرفها شَرْبَةٌ

تباكرُ من صَرفها شَرْبَةٌ

فتاةَ الوثوب عجوزَ الدبيبِ

فتاةَ الوثوب عجوزَ الدبيبِ

A draught of its unmixed wine comes at dawn:

From the turning away of her cup comes a draft

A maiden in leaping, an old woman in creeping.

Maiden in leaping, old woman in creeping,

كأنّ الحبابَ لها جُمّةٌ

كأنّ الحبابَ لها جُمّةٌ

معممةٌ رأسَها بالمشيبِ

معممةٌ رأسَها بالمشيبِ

As though its bubbles were a head of hair,

As if the seeds for her are a flock

Turbaning its head with gray.

With heads turbaned in grey,

إذا صُبَّ ماءٌ على صرفها

إذا صُبَّ ماءٌ على صرفها

رأيتَ لهُ غَوْصَةً في اللهيبِ

رأيتَ لهُ غَوْصَةً في اللهيبِ

When water is poured upon its unmixed wine,

If water is poured on herlogout you see for it a dive in flames

You see it take a plunge into the flame.

And from its depths a pearl emerges

فتخرجُ من قعرها لؤلؤاً

فتخرجُ من قعرها لؤلؤاً

يُنَظّمُ للكأسِ فوقَ التريبِ

يُنَظّمُ للكأسِ فوقَ التريبِ

Then it brings forth pearls from its depths,

To be strung atop goblets,

Strung for the cup above its breast.

I tasted it while the breeze of gardens blew,

تناولْتُها ونسيمُ الرّياضِ

تناولْتُها ونسيمُ الرّياضِ

ذكيّ النسيمِ عليلُ الهبوبِ

ذكيّ النسيمِ عليلُ الهبوبِ

I drank it while the breeze of the gardens

Wind fresh, breeze gentle,

Was fragrant in its breath, gentle in its blowing.

And a warbler, the melodies of its songs harmonious,

وغيدٍ لطائفُ ألحانها

وغيدٍ لطائفُ ألحانها

تُنَغّمها لسرورِ الكئيبِ

تُنَغّمها لسرورِ الكئيبِ

And supple maidens, whose delicate melodies

Makes music to delight the sorrowful,

They intone to gladden the sorrowful.

So every wine-skin studded with carnelians

فكلّ مُقَمّعَةٍ بالْعَقِيقِ

فكلّ مُقَمّعَةٍ بالْعَقِيقِ

من الدّرِ أغصانَ كفٍّ خضيبِ

من الدّرِ أغصانَ كفٍّ خضيبِ

So each one capped with carnelian,

From pearls are the branches of a blood-stained palm,

Of pearl—the branches of a henna-dyed hand—

Arousing a hammer in breasts

تُنَبّهُ مُطْرِقَةً في الحجور

تُنَبّهُ مُطْرِقَةً في الحجور

تُغْري الأَكفّ بشقّ الجيوبِ

تُغْري الأَكفّ بشقّ الجيوبِ

Rouses a bowed instrument in their laps,

Tempting palms to rend garments,

Urging hands to rip their robes open.

When the beauties of song are heard

إذا أسْمَعَتْ حسناتِ الغناءِ

إذا أسْمَعَتْ حسناتِ الغناءِ

شَرِبْنا عليها كؤوسَ الذنوبِ

شَرِبْنا عليها كؤوسَ الذنوبِ

When it gave voice to the beauties of song,

We drink to them cups of sins,

We drank to it the cups of sin.

And the dark-haired houris drag them,

وَسُودِ الذوائبِ يسْحَبْنَها

وَسُودِ الذوائبِ يسْحَبْنَها

كَسَعْيِ الأساودِ فوْقَ الكثيبِ

كَسَعْيِ الأساودِ فوْقَ الكثيبِ

And women with black tresses drag them,

Like the exertion of lions over a hill,

Like black snakes gliding over the dune.

Their feet keep time in dance

تَوَافَقُ بالرقص أقدامُهُنّ

تَوَافَقُ بالرقص أقدامُهُنّ

يطأنَ بها نَغَماتِ الذنوبِ

يطأنَ بها نَغَماتِ الذنوبِ

Their feet move in unison as they dance;

Stepping to the tones of sins,

With them they tread the notes of sin.

They point to each limb with what

يُشِرْنَ إلى كلّ عضْوٍ بما

يُشِرْنَ إلى كلّ عضْوٍ بما

يَحُلّ به في الهوى من كروبِ

يَحُلّ به في الهوى من كروبِ

They point to every limb, showing what

Afflicts it in love of troubles,

Torments befall it in love.

We offered ourselves while they were like branches

بَسَطْنا لها وهي مثل الغصونِ

بَسَطْنا لها وهي مثل الغصونِ

تميسُ بهَبّ الصّبا والجنوبِ

تميسُ بهَبّ الصّبا والجنوبِ

For her we laid out—while she, like branches,

Swaying in the drops of dawn and the south wind,

Swayed in the blowing of the east and south winds—

Upon the ground our cheeks

على الأرضِ منا خدودَ الوجوه

على الأرضِ منا خدودَ الوجوه

وبينَ الضّلوع خدودَ القلوب

وبينَ الضّلوع خدودَ القلوب

On the earth, the cheeks of our faces,

And between ribs the cheeks of hearts.

And between the ribs, the cheeks of our hearts.