عُج بفتيان اصطباحِ

لا بفتيانِ الصياحِ

Turn to the youths of the morning draught,

Not to the youths of the battle cry,

نحو حرب ليس يُخشى

عندها كلمُ الجراح

To a war wherein there is no fear

Of the stinging pain of wounds.

إنّهم ثمَّ بما يصل

ح فيها من سلاح

For they are there with what is fit

To serve as weapons for it:

بأباريقَ وأكوا

ب وريحانٍ وراح

With pitchers and overflowing

Cups, with basil and wine,

وبيض من زجاجِ الشا

م لا بيض الصفاحِ

And white vessels of Levantine

Glass, not the white of broadswords,

وبسُمرٍ من ملاءِ

المشكِ لاسمر الرماحِ

And tawny vessels filled with

Musk, not the tawny spears.