وَساقِيَةٍ قَد زَها ريقُها
عَلى ما أَراقَتهُ في كاسِها
A cup whose moisture glistens
From what it pours into its goblet
إِذا الجانُ وَالتاجُ صيغا لَها
وَلاحا عَلَيهِ لِجُلّاسِها
When the gems and crown are fashioned for it
And gleam upon it for its washer
حَسِبتَ الهِلالَ عَلى نَحرِها
وَخِلتَ الثُرَيّا عَلى راسِها
You'd think the crescent moon was at its throat
With the Pleiades upon its head
