ما إِن وَطِئنا فَناءَ زَيدٍ

حَتّى أَتَتنا الكُؤوسُ عَجلى

No sooner had we trod upon Zayd's garden

Than swiftly came the cups our way

وَقالَ تَختارُ صَوتَ نايٍ

فَقُلتُ أَختارُ صَوتَ مَقلى

And he said, choose the sound of a flute

I said, the sound of a ladle I'd rather play