عُج لِلوُقوفِ عَلى راحٍ وَرَيحانِ
فَما الوُقوفُ عَلى الأَطلالِ مِن شاني
Hasten to stand at the meadows and basil,
Turn aside to rest by wine and sweet basil,
For standing at the ruins is no glory.
For standing over ruins is not my way.
لا تَبكِيَنَّ عَلى رَسمٍ وَلا طَلَلٍ
وَاِقصِد عُقاراً كَعَينِ الديكِ نَدماني
Weep not for a picture or remnants,
Do not weep for traces left, nor crumbled walls,
And head for juice like the rooster's regretful eye.
But seek the wine, red as a rooster's eye, my friend.
سُلافُ دَنٍّ إِذا ما الماءُ خالَطَها
فاحَت كَما فاحَ تُفّاحٌ بِلُبنانِ
A morning draught, when water mixes in,
Choice vintage of the cask, which, when mixed with water,
Smells like an apple among the milk.
Exhales a fragrance like apples in Lebanon.
كَالمِسكِ إِن بُزِلَت وَالسَبكِ إِن سُكِبَت
تَحكي إِذا مُزِجَت إِكليلَ مَرجانِ
Like musk if it spills, and amber if it pours,
Like musk when broached, like molten gold when poured,
It tells, when blended, a necklace of coral.
Resembling, when diluted, a crown of coral beads.
صَهباءُ صافِيَةٌ عَذراءُ ناصِعَةٌ
لِلسُقمِ دافِعَةٌ مِن كَرمِ دِهقانِ
A pure, sparkling, chaste white,
A golden-red elixir, pure, virgin, and bright,
Repelling illness with generosity.
Warding off sickness, from a landlord’s noble vine.
كَرمٌ تَخالُ عَلى قُضبانِ نَخلَتِهِ
يَومَ القِطافِ لَهُ هاماتِ حُبشانِ
A generosity whose palm fronds on its trees
A vine upon whose trellises you would imagine,
Appear like the forelocks of Ethiopians on harvest day.
On harvest day, the hanging heads of Abyssinians.
لَم تَدنُ مِنها يَدٌ مُذ يَومِ قَطفَتِها
وَلَم تُعَذَّب بِتَدخينٍ وَنيرانِ
No hand has touched it since it was picked,
No hand has touched it since the day it was plucked,
Nor tortured by smoking and fire.
Nor was it tormented by smoke or by fire.
حَتّى إِذا عُقِرَت سالَت سُلالَتُها
في قَعرِ مَعصَرَةٍ كَالعَندَمِ القاني
Until when it was tapped its juice flowed
Until, when the cask was pierced, its lineage flowed,
Into the depths of a vat like heated honey.
Into the press’s depths, red as dragon's blood.
وَحَولَها حارِسٌ ذو صَلعَةٍ شَكِسٌ
عِلجٌ يَدورُ أَخو طِمرٍ وَتُبّانِ
Around it a bald, broken guard,
Guarded by a surly, bald-headed keeper,
A worn horse the brother of ashes and straw.
A barbarian prowling in rags and short breeches.
سَلسالَةُ الطَعمِ إِسفَنطٌ مُعَتَّقَةٌ
بِشُربِها قَيِّمُ الحانوتِ أَوصاني
A chain of flavor, aged wine
Smooth to the taste, a pure and aged draft,
With drinking it the shopkeeper advised me.
Which the tavern master counseled me to drink.
مَسحولَةٌ مُزَّةٌ كَالمِسكِ قَرقَفَةٌ
تُطَيِّرُ الهَمَّ عَن حَيزومِ حَرّانِ
Strained, tasting of musk, loud like a bottle,
Refined and tangy, musky, a trembling strength,
It dispels cares from the throat of the heated.
Taking flight with sorrow from the burning chest.
هِيَ العَروسُ إِذا دارَيتَ مَزجَتَها
وَإِن عَنُفتَ عَلَيها أُختُ شَيطانِ
She is the bride, if slowly mixed,
She is a bride if you act gently when mixing her,
And if forced upon her, Satan's sister.
But if you treat her roughly, she is Satan's sister.
فَلَألَأَت في حَوافي الكَأسِ مِن يَدِهِ
مِثلَ اليَواقيتِ مِن مَثنى وَوِحدانِ
She would then froth in the cup from his hand
She shimmered at the vessel's rim within his hand,
Like rubies of pairs and singles.
Like rubies scattered, in pairs and single gems.
تَنزو جَنادِبُها في وَجهِ شارِبِها
مِثلَ الدَبى هاجَهُ طَشٌّ بِقيعانِ
Her bubbles rise in the drinker’s face
Her bubbles leap up into the drinker’s face,
Like creeping insects roused in pastures.
Like young locusts stirred by drizzle in the valley.
حَتّى إِذا اِصطَفَّتِ الأَقداحُ وَاِنتَطَحَت
بيضُ القَواريرِ مِن أَعيانِ كيوانِ
Until when the cups line up and lean
Until, when the cups were marshaled and clashed together,
Like the white of goblets of princely Kaiwan.
Those white crystal vessels, like the stars of Saturn.
خِلنا الظَليمَ بَعيراً عِندَ نَهضَتِنا
وَالتَلَّ مُنبَطِحاً في قَدِّ ثَهلانِ
We left the shaded camel when we rose,
We deemed the ostrich a camel as we rose,
Sprawled in the remains of the ruined encampment.
And the flattened hill as vast as Mount Thahlan.
