عذَلوا وما عدَلوا ولا نَصَحوا

ليُلاَم مُغْتَبِق ومُصْطَبِحُ

They blamed but were not just, nor gave good counsel,

So that both night owl and early riser are blamed.

هل للنَّعيم سوى الصِّبا سببٌ

أو للكئيب سواهما فرح

Is there any path to bliss but youth?

Or any path for the sorrowful but them both?

لا شيءَ أحسنُ منظَراً أبداً

من غادة في كفِّها قَدَح

Nothing is fairer in appearance, ever,

Than a maiden with a wine-cup in her hand,

تسعَى بمجمرٍّ على عَنَمٍ

أطرافُه العُنَّاب والبَلَح

Hurrying with a brazier on a sand hill,

Its edges dry sticks and unripe dates.

وأغنَّ أجوفَ فيه زَمْزَمَه

وله بذلك أَلْسُنٌ فُصُحُ

She sings, her throat throbbing within,

And it has eloquent tongues and speaks plainly.

في كلّ عَقْد من معاقده

نَغَمٌ يُهام بها ويُقْتَرح

In every knot of her girdle,

A melody that seduces and ensnares.

باكَرتُه والليلُ أدْعَجُ ما

في رأسه شَمطٌ ولا جَلَح

She rose early while night was at its darkest,

With no veil on her head and no mark.

وكأنّ أَنْجُمَه وقد جَنَحتْ

دُرَرٌ رُجِمن بها لدّجى سُبُح

As though its stars, as they set,

Were pearls flung at the darkness of early dawn.

ولقد ذَعَرتُ الوحشَ يَحْمِلني

قَلقُ العِنان مُشَذَّب مَرِحُ

I startled the wild beasts, carrying me on,

My steed restless, with polished saddle.

نشوان أَدْهَمُ غيرَ أربعةٍ

بيض بها يَدْنو ويَنْتزِح

A chestnut Najdi, none but four white feet,

Drawing near and moving away.

فكأنّه بالصبح مُنْتَعِلٌ

وكأنه بالليل مُتَّشِح

As though in the morning caparisoned

And as though at night clad in a wide cloak.