يا رُبَّ لَيلٍ بِتُّ في نِعمَةٍ

عِندَ فَتىً أَبيَضَ بَسّامِ

Oh Lord of the night, I stay in bliss

Oh, many a night I passed in perfect bliss,

By a fair youth of smiling grace,

In the company of a bright-faced, ever-smiling youth,

بِجَنبِ ساقٍ حَسَنٍ وَجهُهُ

في السَقيِ عَدلٍ غَيرِ ظَلّامِ

With a leg whose lovely face

Beside a cupbearer with a handsome face,

Gives justly, no darkness or excess.

Who is fair in his pouring, never unjust,

قَد باتَ يَسقينِيَ دِرياقَةً

سالَت مِنَ الإِبريقِ في الجامِ

All night he serves me with drink in a cup

He passed the night serving me a healing elixir,

Poured from a pitcher, received in my palms

That flowed from the ewer into the goblet.