وهواكَ لو كان المَلامُ صَلاحا
ما زادَ قلبي لوعةً وجِراحا
By my love for you, if reproach were beneficial,
Your love, if blame was virtue
it would not have added anguish and wounds to my heart.
Would not increase my heart's anguish and wounds
أحبِبْ إليَّ بليلةٍ أفنيتُها
حتى الصبَّاحِ تَفَكُّهاً ومِزاحا
How dear to me is a night I spent
Love me for a night I spent
until dawn in merriment and jesting!
Till dawn, joking and fun
ما كانَ لو مدَّت عليَّ جَناحَها
للوصلِ ما غنَّى الحَمامُ وناحا
What harm if it had spread its wing over me
If it extended its wings over me
for union, as long as the doves sang and lamented?
For union, the pigeons wouldn't sing and grieve
باتَتْ يداي له وُشاحاً لازماص
حتى كسا الليلَ الصّباحُ وُشاحا
My hands were a clinging sash around him all night,
My hands remained all night clasped
until dawn clothed the night in a sash.
Till dawn draped the night in veils
قم فَانْفِ بالكاساتِ سُلطانَ الكَرى
واجعَلْ مَطايا الرّاحِ منكَ الرَّاحا
Rise, then with the cups banish sleep's dominion,
Rise and take along the goblets, reign of worries
and make your palms steeds for wine.
Make the beds of winds your comfort
لا تأسَفَنَّ على الصَّباحِ فحسْبُنا
ضوءُ السَّوالفِ والسُّلافُ صَباحا
Do not grieve over dawn, for we need only
Don't grieve for the morn, we're content
the glow of necks and choice wine as our dawn.
With the light of tales and dawn is eve
فض النديم ختامها فكأنما
اكواكباً يحملن أم أقداحا
The drinking companion broke its seal, so it was as though—
When the drinking friends ended it was as though
Were they carrying stars, or goblets?
Stars they carried or goblets
لم أَدْرِ إذ حَثَّ السُّقاةُ كُؤوسها
أكَواكِباً يَحمِلْنَ أَم أقداحا
I could not tell, when the cupbearers hurried its cups along:
I didn't know, when pourers roused their cups
Were they carrying stars, or goblets?
If stars they carried or goblets
إني مَنَحتُ ذوي الصَّلاحِ مِنَ الوَرَى
بُغضاً فلستُ إليهِمُ مُرتاحا
Indeed, I bestowed on the righteous among mankind
I've granted the virtuous of the world
hatred, so I feel no affinity for them.
Hatred, so I've no comfort in them
مَنْ لي بديرٍ كنتُ مشغوفاً به
لَمَّا عرَفْتُ الرَّاحَ عادَ رِياحا
Who can bring me a monastery I once adored?
Who will shelter me in a monastery I loved
When I came to know wine, it turned to winds.
When I knew comfort, it turned to winds
Sol 6.1