أَعاذِلَ لا أَموتُ بِكَفِّ ساقِ

وَلا آبى عَلى مَلِكِ العِراقِ

I reproach not, nor fear to die by the palm,

O blamer, I shall not die by a cupbearer's hand,

Nor refuse obedience to Iraq's king.

Nor do I refuse the command of Iraq's King.

هَجَرتُ لَهُ الَّتي عَنها نَهاني

وَكانَت لي كَمُمسِكَةِ الرِماقِ

I abandoned her from whom he banned me,

For his sake, I forsook the very thing he forbade,

Though she was to me like the last water-skin.

Though it was to me the sustenance of life itself.

وَقَد يَغدو إِلى الحانوتِ زِقّي

فَيَأخُذُ عَفوَهُ قَبلَ الزُقاقِ

He may go at dawn to beg in the street,

Time was when my wineskin would hasten to the tavern,

And get pardon before the lane is filled.

Seizing the finest pour before the others arrived.

وَكُنَّ إِذا نَزَعنَ إِلى مَداهُ

حَوى قُدّامَها قَصَبَ السِباقِ

Whenever they moved to their camp,

And when the racers strove toward their limit,

Their chieftain marched ahead with the racers.

It snatched the winner's prize before them all.

نَتيجَةُ مُزنَةٍ مِن عودِ كَرمٍ

تُضيءُ اللَيلَ مَضروبَ الرُواقِ

The product of a polished Karm wood,

The daughter of rain clouds, born from the vine's wood,

Lighting the night in the peopled porch,

Illuminating the night when the curtains are drawn.

بِلَونٍ رَقَّ حَتّى كادَ يَخفى

عَلى عَيني وَطابَ عَلى المَذاقِ

Of a hue so soft it almost disappears

With a hue so subtle it nearly vanishes from sight,

Before my eye, and sweet to the taste,

Eluding the eye, yet delightful to the taste.

فَتَجري ما يُحَسُّ لَها حَسيسٌ

إِذا مَرَّت بِمُزدَرَدِ البُصاقِ

There ran what her creation had sensed

It flows down with no sound to betray its path,

When she passed the spittle of the disdainful.

As it glides past the passage where spittle is swallowed.

أَتَت مِن دونِها الأَيّامُ حَتّى

تَعادَمَ جِسمُها وَالروحُ باقِ

The days brought her to decay

The days have passed over it until, at last,

Till her body failed, but the soul remains.

Its body has perished, and only the spirit remains.

سَبَقتُ بِشُربِها لَومَ الأَداني

مَعَ الوُصَفاءِ في السُلُبِ الرِقاقِ

I outdrank the blamers in drinking her

I outstripped the censure of baser men by drinking it,

With the slender-waisted in the fine garments.

Amidst pages clad in garments of sheerest weave.

وَأَحوَرَ لا تُجاوِزُهُ الأَماني

حَلَبتُ لِوُدِّهِ ماءَ المَآقي

I have a she-camel I push to the limit,

And a fawn-eyed beauty—desire seeks nothing beyond him—

Milking for his love the water of the waterholes.

For whose love I have milked the tears from my eyes.

دَعَتني عَينُهُ دونَ النَدامى

وَآذَنَني مَتى مِنّا التَلاقي

His eye beckoned me, beyond regret,

His glance beckoned me, unseen by our drinking companions,

And told me when there would be a meeting.

And signaled the moment when our union would be.

فَبِتُّ عَلى شَفا المَوعودِ أَلقى

جَوىً لِلِقائِهِ كَجَوى الفِراقِ

I spend the night in the promise of union,

So I spent the night on the brink of the promise, enduring

Yearning for it as for the pain of separation.

A burning for our meeting like the burning of farewell.

فَأَصبَحتُ اِعتَجَرتُ عَلى مَشيبٍ

وَوَقَّرَني الخَليفَةُ عَن نِزاقي

I have grown old, repenting of a grey hair,

But morning found me turbaned in the white of age,

While the caliph has granted me immunity from hostility.

And the Caliph has restrained me from my youthful folly.