قم يا غلامُ فهاتها

حمراءَ فالتفاحُ أحمر

Rise, my boy, and bring it to me

Red, for the apple is red

قانٍ كخدّكَ بين ريَ

حانٍ كعارضِكَ المسطَّر

As red as your cheek amidst the meadows

As smooth as your sculpted brow

فكأنّها والمزجُ يُلب

بسُ رأسَها إكليلَ جوهر

As though it were, with its blend, a bud

Crowning its head with a bejeweled wreath

بَدرُ الدُّجى صاغت له ال

أفلاكُ نجمَ الجوِّ مِغفَر

The full moon of nightfall molded it

The spheres formed the absolving star’s gem

وكأنَّ كفَّ مُديرِها

من لونِي القاني مُعصَفرَ

As though the palm of its turner

Were, from my red wine's hue, saffronized