طَرِبَ الشَيخُ فَغَنّى وَاِصطَبَح

مِن عُقارٍ تُنهِبُ الهَمَّ الفَرَح

The elder was thrilled and sang at dawn

The sheikh was moved to joy, he sang and took his morning draught,

From a potion that takes away sorrow and brings joy

Of a vintage that lets gladness plunder all sorrow.

أَخَذَت مِن كُلِّ شَيءٍ لَونَها

فَهيَ في ناجودِها قَوسُ قُزَح

It took from everything its color

It has borrowed its hue from every existing thing,

So it is, in its flask, the rainbow

So that within its flask, it appears as a rainbow.

شَيخُ لَذّاتٍ نَقِيٌّ عِرضُهُ

تَحسُنُ الأَشعارُ فيهِ وَالمِدَح

An elder of pleasures, pure in dignity

A master of pleasures, yet of unblemished honor,

Poetry and praise become him

In whom verses and praises find their true beauty.

لا تَراهُ الدَهرَ إِلّا ثَمِلاً

بَينَ إِبريقٍ وَزِقٍّ وَقَدَح

You never see him sober

You will not see him, throughout time, but intoxicated,

Between a pitcher, a waterskin, and a cup

Amidst a pitcher, a wineskin, and a cup.