وَمُعتَدٍ بِالَّذي تَحوي أَنامِلُهُ

مِن كَأسِ مُنتَخِبٍ لَم يَثنِهِ المَلَلُ

And who is obsessed with what his fingers contain

And one who clings boldly to the cup his fingertips embrace,

Of a chosen cup, untroubled by boredom,

A choice vintage, from which weariness does not deter him.

لَكِن تَحاجَزَ عَنها أَن تُعَجِّزَهُ

بَينَ النَدامى فَلا عُذرٌ وَلا عِلَلُ

But it prevented it from disabling him

Yet he held back from it, lest it render him helpless

Among the regrets, so there are no excuses or reasons.

Among the boon companions, where no excuse or plea serves.

نَبَّهتُهُ بَعدَما حَلَّ الرُقادُ لَهُ

عَقداً مِنَ السُكرِ إِلّا أَنَّهُ ثَمِلُ

I warned him after sleep overtook him

I roused him after slumber had settled upon him,

With a knot of drunkenness, but he was tipsy.

Tying a knot of stupor, for indeed he was drunk.

فَقُلتُ كَأسَكَ خُذها قالَ مُحتَجِزاً

حَسبي الَّذي أَنا فيهِ أَيُّها الرَجُلُ

So I said, “Take your cup,” but he held back, saying,

I said, "Take your cup!" but he replied, holding back:

“What I am in now is enough for me, O man!”

"What I am already in is enough for me, O man."

ثُمَّ اِستَدارَ بِهِ سُكرٌ فَمالَ بِهِ

فَقُمتُ أَسعى إِلَيهِ وَهوَ مُنجَدِلُ

Then drunkenness turned him about and he leaned on it.

Then intoxication spun him around and made him sway,

So I got up, hastening to him while he stumbled.

So I rose, rushing toward him as he lay sprawled.

قَد دَبَّتِ الخَمرُ سِرّاً في مَفاصِلِهِ

فَماتَ سُكراً وَلَكِن حاطَهُ الأَجَلُ

Wine had crept secretly into his joints,

The wine had crept secretly into his joints,

So he died of drunkenness, but fate took him.

And he died of drunkenness, though his allotted time guarded him.

فَلَم أَزَل أَتَفَدّاهُ وَأَرفَعُهُ

عَن وَهدَةِ الأَرضِ وَالنَشوانُ مُحتَمِلُ

I did not stop trying to revive him and lift him up

I ceased not to cherish him and lift him up

Off the bosom of the earth while the squills bore him.

From the hollow of the earth, bearing the drunken burden,

حَتّى أَفاقَ وَثَوبُ اللَيلِ مُنخَرِقٌ

وَغارَ نَجمُ الثُرَيّا وَاِعتَلى زُحَلُ

Until he awoke with the night’s garment torn

Until he awoke, when the garment of night was torn asunder,

And the star Aldebaran rose high and Saturn disappeared.

And the Pleiades had set, while Saturn climbed high.

فَقُلتُ هَل لَكَ في الصَهباءِ تَأخُذُها

مِن كَفِّ ذاتِ هَنٍ فَالعَيشُ مُقتَبِلُ

So I said, “Would you like some predawn drink

I said, "Do you have a desire for the russet wine, to take it

From the hand of a gentle-eyed one? Life smiles ahead.”

From the hand of a maiden? For life is freshly renewed."

حيرِيَّةٌ كَشُعاعِ الشَمسِ صافِيَةٌ

يُحيطُ بِالكَأسِ مِن لَألائِها شُعَلُ

Bewildered as the rays of the sun, pure,

A wine of Hira, pure as a sunbeam;

Its brightness from its gems surrounds the cup.

Flames seem to dance around the cup from its brilliance.

فَقالَ هاتِ وَأَسمِعنا عَلى طَرَبٍ

وَدِّع هُرَيرَةَ إِنَّ الرَكبَ مُرتَحِلُ

He said, “Give it here! Let us hear something rhythmic

He said, "Bring it! And let us hear, in our rapture:

And bid farewell to Huraireh! The traveling party is leaving.”

'Bid farewell to Hurayra, for the caravan is departing!'"

فَأَحسَنَت فيهِ لَم تَخرَم مَواقِعَهُ

وَالكَأسُ في يَدِها في جَوفِها خَلَلُ

She sang well, strumming without missing a note

She sang it beautifully, missing not a single note,

While the cup was in her hand with something moving inside it.

With the cup in her hand, the liquid trembling within.

ثُمَّ اِستَهَشَّت إِلى صَوتٍ تُمَلِّحُهُ

إِنّا مُحَيّوكَ فَاِسلَم أَيُّها الطَلَلُ

Then she turned to a voice, sweetening it,

Then she spiritedly turned to a melody she embellished:

saying: “We greet you! Surrender, O ruins!”

"'We greet you! So be safe, O abandoned ruins!'"

فَما تَمالَكتُ عَيني أَن تَبادَرَها

دَمعي وَعاوَدَها مِن دَلِّها خَيَلُ

I could not prevent my eye from hastening ahead of it

I could not master my eyes, for they hastened

With my tear, and horses from its militia returned to it.

To shed tears, as a fancy returned to her from her coquetry.

فَقالَ أَحسَنتِ ما تُدعَينَ قُلتُ لَهُ

مَنكوسُهُ لَبِقٌ هَذا هُوَ المَثَلُ

He said, “You have done well. What do you call yourself?”

He said, "You were wonderful! What are you called?" I told him:

I said to him: “Sprinkled wine is refined. That is the example.”

"Its reverse spells 'Refined'—that is the riddle."

فَطارَ وَجداً بِها وَالخَمرُ يَأخُذُها

وَقالَ هاتي فَأَنتِ العَيشُ وَالأَمَلُ

He flew into rapture with her while the wine seized him

He soared with passion for her, as the wine took hold,

And said: “Give it to me, for you are life and hope!”

And said, "Pour for me! For you are life and hope."

إِنَّ العُيونَ الَّتي في طَرفِها مَرَضٌ

فَرَجَّعَتهُ بِلَحنٍ وَقعُهُ شَكِلُ

“The eyes which have ailment in their lids,” she retorted

"'Indeed, the eyes that hold a languor in their glance...'"

With a melody that fits it. He was confounded by what came over him,

She echoed it back with a melody of striking cadence.

فَخَرَّ مُعتَجِزاً مِمّا تَرادَفَهُ

مِنها وَقُلتُ لَها أَحسَنتِ يا قُبَلُ

He collapsed, helpless against the wave that overwhelmed him

From her art; and I said to her, "You were wonderful, O Qubal!"

فَاِستَخجَلَت فَتَبَدّى الوَردُ يَضحَكُ في

خَدٍّ أَنيقٍ لَها يا حَبَّذا الخَجَلُ

She became shy, and the rose bloomed, laughing upon

Her elegant cheek—oh, how lovely is that blush!