وَجارِيَةٍ شَعرُها شَطرُها
مُحَكَّمَةٍ نافِذٍ أَمرُها
A girl with hair split in two
And a maiden whose tresses are half of her height,
Her command piercing and firm
A sovereign ruler whose word is obeyed,
تَدورُ وَفي كَفِّها طاقَةٌ
تَضَمَّنَها مُكرَهاً شِبرُها
She turns with a bowl in her hand
She circles, a fragrant bouquet in her palm,
Her wrist conceals her guile
Which her hand-span can barely be forced to contain.
فَإِن أَسكَرَتنا فَفي جَهلِها
بِما فَعَلَتهُ بِنا عُذرُها
If she intoxicates us, she is blameless
If she leaves us intoxicated, her unawareness
For what she does to us, she has an excuse
Of the spell she has cast is her only excuse.
