نورُ الصَباحِ ونور الراحِ قَد لَمَعا

وَالديكُ يَنعَرُ وَالناقوسُ قَد قُرِعا

The light of morning and the light of wine have both gleamed;

The cock cries out, and the bell has been struck.

وَالطَيرُ تَصفِرُ في أَثنائِها طَرَباً

وَسِلكُ عِقدِ دُموعِ الجَوِّ قَد قُطِعا

The birds whistle merrily in its midst,

And the thread of the necklace of the sky’s tears has been cut.

فَاِشرَب عَلى الرَوضِ راحاً كُلَّما جُلِيَت

صِرفاً تَفَطَّرَ قَلبُ الهَمِّ فَاِنصَدَعا

So drink wine in the garden whenever it is brought forth,

Pure and unmixed—at it, the heart of sorrow cracks and splits apart.

لا تَرتَجِع عَن سُرورٍ إِن هَمَمتَ بِهِ

فَالدَهرُ لَيسَ يُبالي ما الَّذي صَنَعا

Do not turn away from a joy once you have resolved upon it,

For Time cares nothing for what it has wrought.