رَقَبَت غَفلَةَ الرَقيبِ فَزارَت

رَقَبَت غَفلَةَ الرَقيبِ فَزارَت

تَحتَ لَيلٍ مُطَرَّزٍ بِنَهارِ

تَحتَ لَيلٍ مُطَرَّزٍ بِنَهارِ

She watched for the watchman’s lapse, then came to visit,

beneath a night embroidered with daylight.

فَتَعَجَّبتُ مِن سُراها فَقالَت

فَتَعَجَّبتُ مِن سُراها فَقالَت

غَيرُ مُستَطرَفٍ سُرى الأَقمارِ

غَيرُ مُستَطرَفٍ سُرى الأَقمارِ

I marveled at her journey by night; she said,

“There is nothing novel in the night-journey of moons.”

ثُمَّ مالَت بِكَأسِها فَسَقَتني

ثُمَّ مالَت بِكَأسِها فَسَقَتني

جُلُّنارِيَّةً عَلى جُلُّنارِ

جُلُّنارِيَّةً عَلى جُلُّنارِ

Then she leaned toward me with her cup and gave me

pomegranate-blossom wine upon pomegranate blossom.