لَئِن هَجَرَتكَ بَعدَ الوَصلِ أَروى

فَلَم تَهجُركَ صافِيَةٌ عُقارُ

If you abandon me after union, I will still quench my thirst,

Though Arwa has shunned you after your time of union,

For the clear wine did not abandon you, it is pure nectar.

A pure, distinct vintage has not forsaken you.

فَخُذها مِن بَناتِ الكَرمِ صِرفاً

كَعَينِ الديكِ يَعلوها اِحمِرارُ

Take it from the generous vines as a gift,

So take her, a daughter of the vine, poured unmixed,

Like the redness in the rooster's eye.

Clear as a rooster’s eye, crowned with rising redness.

شَراباً إِن تُزاوِجهُ بِماءٍ

تَوَلَّدَ مِنهُما دُرَرٌ كِبارُ

It is a drink which if mixed with water,

A draught that, should you wed her to water,

Pearls are born from them both.

Begets from their union great, gleaming pearls.

طَبيخُ الشَمسِ لَم تَطبُخهُ قِدرٌ

بِماءٍ لا وَلَم تَلذَعهُ نارُ

The sun's cooking did not cook it in a pot,

She is the sun's own brew, cooked in no cauldron,

With water, nor did fire scorch it.

Boiled in water? Nay, nor ever stung by fire.

عَلى أَمثالِها كانَت لِكِسرى

أَنوشِروانَ تَتَّجِرُ التِجارُ

The likes of it were articles of trade for Chosroes,

It was for the likes of her that, for Chosroes

Merchants trafficking in it for Anushirwan.

Anushirvan, the merchants plied their trade.

إِذا المَخمورُ باكَرَها ثَلاثاً

تَطايَرَ عَن مَفاصِلِهِ الخُمارُ

When the intoxicated begins it in the morning,

If the hungover soul seeks her out thrice at dawn,

Drunkenness takes flight from his joints.

The lingering sickness takes flight from his joints.

وَهاتِ فَغَنِّني بَيتَي نُصَيبٍ

فَقَد وافانِيَ القَدَحُ المُدارُ

Bring me then, let me sing the verses of Nuṣayb,

So pass it, and sing me the couplet of Nusayb,

For the circulating cup has come my way.

For the circling chalice has reached my hand:

وَلَولا أَن يُقالَ صَبا نُصَيبٌ

لَقُلتُ بِنَفسِيَ النَشءُ الصِغارُ

Were it not that some would say, "Nuṣayb is drunk,"

'Were it not said that Nusayb plays the fool in love,

I would say it openly - the young are drunk!

I would say: Let my soul be ransom for the young;

بِنَفسِيَ كُلُّ مَهضومٍ حَشاها

إِذا ظُلِمَت فَلَيسَ لَها اِنتِصارُ

By my life, every wronged one whose rights were lost,

My life for the one with the slender, sculpted waist,

If oppressed, has no redress.

Who, when treated wrongly, possesses no defense.'