أدِرِ الْمدَامَةَ فَالنَّسِيم يُشَبِّبُ
وَالروضُ يَسْقِيهِ الغمَامُ فَيَشْرَبُ
Turn the wine-cup around, for the breeze makes it bubble,
And the meadow is watered by clouds, so it drinks,
وَالصبح قَدْ ألْقَى القنَاعَ لِكَيْ يَرَى
وَجْهَ الدُّجَى بِالْفَجْرِ كَيْفَ يُنَقَّبُ
The dawn has now cast off its veil, that it might see
The face of the gloom at sunrise, how it is unveiled,
وَالْجَوُّ فِضِّيُّ الرِّدَا لَكِنَّهُ
بِالْبرقِ صَارَ لَهُ طِرَازٌ مُذْهَبُ
The air is silvery white, but it is embroidered
By lightning with a gilt trim.
وَالدوحُ قَدْ نُظِمَتْ زُهُورُ غُصُونه
وَمِنَ العَجَائِبِ نظمُ مَالاَ يُثْقَبُ
The branches are strung with flowers,
And the stringing of what cannot be pierced is a wonder.
وَالْوَرْدُ فِي خَدَّيْهِ من شمسِ الضُّحَى
خَجَلٌ وثغرُ الأُقْحُوَانَة أشْنَبُ
The rose - from the sun of daybreak upon its cheek
Is a blush, while the mouth of the narcissus is sullen,
وَالْغُصْنُ تَثْنِيهِ الصَّبَا فَكَأنَّهُ
صَبٌّ بِهِ أيَدِي الصَّبَابَةِ تَلْعَبُ
The branch - the morning breeze bends it, so it's as if
It's a youth with hands of morning zephyrs playing on it.
وَالدِّيكُ حَيْعَلَ بِالصَّبَاحِ مُؤَذِّنًا
وَالطَّيْرُ فِي فَنَنِ الأرَائِكِ يَخْطُبُ
The cock crows at dawn, a muezzin,
While the birds in the trellises' varieties court.
فَاسْتَجْلِ كَأسَ الراح فِي حَانَاتهَا
فِي فِتْيَةٍ طَابُوا فَطَابَ الْمَشْرَبُ
Drink the cup of respite in its taverns
Where the young men are pure, so the wine is pure.
فَالحَانُ روضٌ وَالسُّقَاةُ أزَاهرٌ
وَالراحُ شَمْسٌ وَالزُّجَاجَةُ كَوْكَبُ
The tavern is a meadow, the cupbearers are blossoms,
The wine is a sun, the bottle a planet,
فِي الثغرِ يَغْرُبُ حَرْفُهَا لَكِنَّهَا
بِسَمَا الخُدُود شُعَاعُهَا لاَ يَغْرُبُ
In the mouth it sets, but through the cheeks'
Radiance it does not set.
صفرَاء فِي الْكَاسَاتِ إلاَّ أنَّهَا
حمرَاء فِي الوَجَنَاتِ نَارٌ تُلْهَبُ
Pale yellow in the cups, but in the cheeks
A red fire flames.
صفرَاء حَارَبَتِ الصُّرُوفَ أمَا تَرَى
كَاسَاتِهَا بِدَمِ الهُمُومِ تُخَضَّبُ
Pale yellow, it battled misfortunes. Don't you see
Its cups dyed with the blood of sorrows?
عَجَبًا لَهَا كَالنَّارِ إلاّ أنَّهَا
لاَ تَنْطَفِي بِالْمَاءِ بَلْ تَتَلَهَّبُ
Strange, like fire, except that it
Is not extinguished with water but flares.
مِنْ كَفْ مَعْسُولِ المَرَاشِفِ رِيقُهُ
أشْهَى إلَيَّ مِنَ الْمُدَامِ وَأعْذَبُ
From the palm of the smooth-cheeked cupbearer, his spittle
Is sweeter to me than wine and more delicious,
قمرٍ يُرِيكَ بِخَدّهِ وَعِذَارِهِ
صبحًا تَبَلَّجَ إذْ عَلاَهُ الغَيْهَبُ
A moon that shows you through his cheek and coquetry
A dawn that shone when darkness enveloped it.
أفْدِيهِ مِنْ قمرٍ بِقَلْبِي نَازلٌ
لَكِنَّهُ عَنْ نَاظِرِي يَتَحَجَّبُ
I ransom him with my heart from a moon, but he
From my eyes is veiled.
لِلْقَانِ يُنْسَبُ خَدُّهُ فَلأجْلِ ذَا
تُفَّاحُهُ بِدَمِ الْقُلُوبِ مُخَضَّبُ
His cheek is attributed to the Pleiades, so for that
His apple is dyed with the blood of hearts.
وَلِلَحْظِهِ بِيضُ الظُّبَي انْتَسَبَتْ كَمَا
لِقَوَامِهِ سُمْرُ الْعَوَالِي تُنْسَبُ
And for his glance, the eggs of ostriches are attributed,
As for his figure, the duskiness of antelopes.
