جَاءَ الأَصِيلْ

يُحْيِي قَتِيلْ النَّائِبَاتْ

The late afternoon has come,

Reviving the one slain by misfortunes,

قُمْ يَا حَمِيمْ

نَبْرُدْ حَمِيمْ الْحَسَرَاتْ

Rise, O close friend,

Let us cool the burning fever of sorrows,

قَدْكَ مِنَ الأَشْجَانْ

يَا مَنْ لَهُ قَلْبٌ رَقِيقْ

Enough of your griefs,

O you who possess a tender heart,

أَصْغِ إِلَى أَلْحَانْ

وُرْقٍ تُنَادِي مِنْ سَحِيقْ

Listen to the melodies

Of doves calling from afar,

قَدْ أَيْنَعَ الْبُسْتَانْ

فَهَاتِهَا مِثْلَ الْعَقِبقْ

The orchard has blossomed,

So bring it forth, glowing like carnelian,

تَشْفِي غَلِيلْ

صَبٍّ عَلِيلْ ذِي زَفَرَاتْ

To heal the burning thirst

Of an ailing lover, heavy with sighs,

هَبَّ النَّسِيمْ

يَهْدِي شَمِيمْ الزَّهَرَاتْ

The breeze has blown,

Gifting the fragrance of the blossoms,

وَالشَّمْسُ بِالْوَرْسِ

تَرْقُمُ بِالرَّوْضِ مُلَى

And the sun, with golden dye,

Embroiders robes upon the garden,

تَفْعَلُ بِالنَّفْسِ

فِعْلَ الْخَلِيعِ بِالطِّلَى

Doing to the soul

What the carefree libertine does with wine,

حَيَّ عَلَى الأُنْسِ

يَا ذَا الأَسَى وَانْظُرْ إِلَى

Hasten to joy,

O you in sorrow, and look upon

غُصْنٍ يَمِيلْ

بِصَباً بَلِيلْ ذِي نَسَمَاتْ

A swaying branch

In a cool easterly wind, bearing gentle breezes,

مَنْ لاَ يَهِيمْ

بِشَذَا النَّسِيمْ أَقْسَى الْقُسَاةْ

He who is not enraptured

By the fragrance of the breeze is the cruelest of the cruel.