ذَكَرَ الصَبوحَ بِسُحرَةٍ فَاِرتاحا

وَأَمَلَّهُ ديكُ الصَباحِ صِياحا

The dawn heralded the morning with its charm,

He recalled the morning draught at dawn and found relief, / Though the crowing of the morning cock wearied him.

As the rooster announced hope with its crowing.

Perched high upon the crest of the wall in the gloom, / Warbling aloud, clapping wing against wing.

أَوفى عَلى شَعَفِ الجِدارِ بِسُدفَةٍ

غَرِداً يُصَفِّقُ بِالجَناحِ جَناحا

It sang sweetly atop the garden wall,

Hasten to your morning with the dawn-cup, and be not / Like those procrastinators who have grown stingy toward you.

Flapping and clapping its wings.

For the morning draught clears the head of every reveler / Whose hands have raced the sunrise to the cup.

بادِر صَباحَكَ بِالصَبوحِ وَلاتَكُن

كَمُسَوِّفينَ غَدَوا عَلَيكَ شِحاحا

Begin your morning early, delay no more

And a boon companion of pleasures, a diverting friend, / From whom one gleans the sustenance of wit and jest.

Lest sluggish be your leaving.

I roused him while the night was still entangled with him, / And brushed away his drowsiness until it withdrew.

إِنَّ الصَبوحَ جِلاءُ كُلِّ مُخَمِّرٍ

بَدَرَت يَداهُ بُكَأسِهِ الإِصباحا

Verily dawn releases all intoxicants—

He said, "Seek out the lamp for me." I replied, "Gently now; / Her radiance suffices us both for a lamp."

Its gleaming cup brings joy each morning.

So I poured into the glass a draught of her / That served as morning for him, until the true morning.

وَخَدينِ لَذّاتٍ مُعَلَّلِ صاحِبٍ

يَقتاتُ مِنهُ فُكاهَةً وَمُزاحا

Laughter and jest bubbles forth from sweet lips,

From a vintage that came to you unadorned before the mix, / But the tempering water clothed her in a sash.

A noble host of mirth and rhyme.

The spigot pierced her heart, and it seemed as if / She gifted you apples through her fragrance.

نَبَّهتُهُ وَاللَيلُ مُلتَبِسٌ بِهِ

وَأَزَحتُ عَنهُ حُثاثَهُ فَاِنزاحا

I awakened him as night still gripped him fast,

A golden vintage that preys upon souls, yet you see / No wounds inflicted by her, save for slumber.

And hastily did I remove his covers.

Long has she aged, with Time concealing her story, / Until, growing weary of silence, he revealed it.

قالَ اِبغِني المِصباحَ قُلتُ لَهُ اِتئد

حَسبي وَحَسبُكَ ضَوءُها مِصباحا

“Bring me the lantern” cried he out. I replied—

He laid bare a repository of her secrets, / Which, but for his weariness, would never have been known.

Enough, enough the lantern’s glow!

She came to you in forms infiltrated by decay, / But he stripped them away, establishing her pure spirit.

فَسَكَبتُ مِنها في الزُجاجَةِ شَربَةً

كانَت لَهُ حَتّى الصَباحِ صَباحا

Instead, within the glass I poured a drink—

As though she, while the cup blazed bright with her, / Were a morning whose time drew near, and so it broke.

Coffee to greet the cock’s refrain.

مِن قَهوَةٍ جاءَتكَ قَبلَ مِزاجِها

عُطُلاً فَأَلبَسَها المِزاجُ وِشاحا

The potion came too soon, mixed too fast,

So attire did the brewer lend.

شَكَّ البِزالُ فُؤادَها فَكَأَنَّما

أَهدَت إِلَيكَ بِريحِها تُفّاحا

The fragrance rose and moved his heart—

Its scent brought apples bounteous.

صَفراءُ تَفتَرِسُ النُفوسَ فَلا تَرى

مِنها بِهِنَّ سِوى السِناتِ جِراحا

A yellow seductress of souls, that spares—

No tender flesh from clawing scars

عَمِرَت يُكاتِمُكَ الزَمانُ حَديثَها

حَتّى إِذا بَلَغَ السَآمَةَ باحا

It kept you, as time told tales secretly

Until boredom made him share confessions,

فَأَباحَ مِن أَسرارِها مُستَودَعاً

لَولا المِلالَةُ لَم يَكُن لِيُباحا

A storehouse of secrets now laid bare—

But for weariness, never told at all.

فَأَتَتكَ في صُوَرٍ تَداخَلَها البِلى

فَأَزالَهُنَّ وَأَثبَتَ الأَرواحا

It came to you in shapes worn by age

That he swiftly renews, as specters ethereal.

فَكَأَنَّها وَالكَأسُ ساطِعَةٌ بِها

صُبحٌ تَقارَبَ أَمرُهُ فَاِنصاحا

So that, as the cup shines, bright within,

The morn draws nigh, clear and crisp.