وَخَمّارٍ طَرَقتُ بِلا دَليلٍ

سِوى ريحِ العَتيقِ الخَسرَواني

I knocked at a tent, with no guide

And a tavern-keeper I visited by night without a guide,

Except the fragrant old eastern breeze

Save for the scent of the vintage Khosrowan wine.

فَقامَ إِلَيَّ مَذعوراً يُلَبّي

وَجَونُ اللَيلِ مِثلُ الطَيلَسانِ

He stood up to me, frightened, crying out

He rose to meet me, startled, answering my call,

While the night was as dark as obsidian

While the darkness of night hung like a Taylasan cloak.

فَلَمّا أَن رَأى زِقّي أَمامي

تَكَلَّمَ غَيرَ مَذعورِ الجَنانِ

When he saw my face before him

But when he saw my wineskin placed before me,

He spoke, no longer frightened

He spoke with a heart no longer seized by fear.

وَقالَ أَمِن تَميمٍ قُلتُ كَلّا

وَلَكِنّي مِنَ الحَيِّ اليَماني

And said, are you from Tamim? I said no

He said, "Are you of Tamim?" I answered, "Nay,"

Rather, I am from the living people of Yemen

"But rather I am of the Yemeni clan."

فَقامَ مِمِبزَلٍ فَأَجافَ دَنّاً

كَمِثلِ سَماوَةِ الجَمَلِ الهِجانِ

He got up from his abode, and drew near

He stood with a piercer and broached a clay jar,

Like the pacing of a restless camel

Resembling the hump of a noble white camel.

فَسَيَّلَ بِالبِزالِ لَها شِهاباً

أَضاءَ لَهُ الفُراتُ إِلى عُمانِ

He poured for it a drink, lighting up

And through the spigot he poured out a shooting star,

The Euphrates for it, to Oman

That illuminated the Euphrates as far as Oman.

رَأَيتُ الشَيءَ حينَ يُصانُ يَزكو

وَنُقصانُ المُدامِ عَلى الصِيانِ

I saw the thing, when protected, grow pure

I have seen that things, when hoarded, tend to increase,

While the decrease of wine is in the containers

Yet the decrease of wine comes from its very keeping,

سِوى لَونٍ وَحُسنِ صَفا أَديمِ

وَروحٍ قَد صَفا وَالجِسمُ فانِ

Except a hue, beauty of clear complexion

Save for its color and the beauty of a clear sheen,

And a soul that is pure, though the body perishes

And a spirit purified, while the body has perished.