اِنسَ رَسمَ الدِيارِ ثُمَّ الطُلولا

وَاِهجُرِ الرَبعَ دارِساً وَمَحيلا

Forget the abode you drew and the heights,

Forget the traces of the dwellings and the scattered ruins,

And abandon this land you tread and home.

And abandon the encampment, now effaced and desolate.

هَل رَأَيتَ الدِيارَ رَدَّت جَواباً

وَأَجابَت لِذي سُؤالٍ سُؤولا

Have you seen an abode answer back,

Have you ever seen the ruins return an answer,

Or respond to one questioning and pleading?

Or yield a response to the one who questions them?

وَاِشرَبَنها كَأَنَّها عَينُ ديكٍ

يَطرُدُ الهَمَّ طَعمُها وَالغَليلا

Drink it as if it were a rooster's eye

But drink that draught, red and bright as a rooster’s eye,

Whose taste dispels sorrow and dissolves pain.

Whose taste banishes sorrow and quenches the burning thirst.

هِيَ إِذ ما تَغَلغَلَت في عُروقي

عَجَّلَ الهَمُّ عَن فُؤادي الرَحيلا

When it seeped into my veins

For when it courses deep within my veins,

Sorrow quickly bid farewell to my heart.

Grief makes haste to depart from my heart.

وَنَديمٍ مُساعِدٍ غَيرِ نِكسِ

حَيثُما مِلتَ مالَ مَعكَ مَميلا

With an aiding, unfailing drinking mate

With a compliant companion, no weakling he,

Wherever you inclined, he inclined with you.

Who sways in perfect measure wherever you may sway.

رَنَّحَتهُ الكُؤوسُ بِالصِرفِ حَتّى

خَرَّ مِنها عَلى الجَبينِ تَليلا

It wore him out with pure wine,

The cups of pure vintage left him staggering,

Till it dripped down his brow soothingly.

Until he collapsed, prostrate upon his brow.

قُلتُ لَمّا بَدَت تَباشيرُ صُبحٍ

هَتَكَت في دُجى الظَلامِ الذُيولا

I said, as the break of dawn appeared,

I spoke as the first heralds of the dawn appeared,

Piercing the dark night's veil:

Rending the trailing skirts of the night’s darkness.

فَشَكا شِدَّةَ الخُمارِ عَلَي

هِ وَتَلَكَّأَ لِأَخذِ كَأسٍ قَليلا

He complained of the wine's intensity upon him

He complained to me of the hangover’s severity,

And leaned back to take just a little.

And hesitated a moment to accept another cup.

قُم بِنَفسي أَقيكَ مِن كُلِّ سوءٍ

فَاِصطَبِحها مُدامَةً مَشمولا

I said: rouse yourself to spare me from all ills

"Rise—may my soul be your ransom—I will shield you from all harm,

And face the morn embraced.

And take the morning draught, a vintage chilled by the north wind."

قُلتُ خُذها لِكَي يَزولَ التَشَكّي

فَبِها يُصبِحُ الخُمارُ قَتيلا

He said: take it so complaint may cease

I said, "Take it, that your complaining may cease,

And by it the wine's life comes to an end.

For by this cup, the hangover is slain."

فَاِستَوى قاعِداً وَأَبرَزَ كَفّاً

لَم تَزَل راحُها لِراحٍ حَمولا

He sat upright and held out a palm

So he sat upright and extended a hand,

That never stopped serving palms.

A palm that has ever been a bearer of the wine-cup.

وَتَغَنّى عَلى المُدامِ ثَلاثاً

أُزجُرِ العَينَ أَن تُبَكّي الطُلولا

And he sang thrice of the wine,

And he sang out three times over the wine:

Chiding the eye for weeping at past heights.

"Forbid the eye to weep over the vanished ruins!"