لا تَبكِ لِلظاعِنينَ وَالعيسِ

وَمَنزِلٍ ظَلَّ غَيرَ مَأنوسِ

Do not weep for the blameworthy and wretched,

Nor a home that remained unfamiliar.

وَاِشرَب عُقاراً قَد عُتِّقَت حِقَباً

مِن عَهدِ عادٍ بِالوَعدِ مَحروسِ

Drink a liquor aged for eons,

Protected since the days of ancient Ad.

تَخرُجُ مِن دَنِّها وَقَد حَدِبَت

مِثلَ هِلالٍ بَدا بِتَقويسِ

It emerges turbid from its vat

Like a crescent moon with its curve.

زُفَّت إِلَينا مِن بَيتِ دَسكَرَةٍ

وَشَيَّعَتها جُنودُ إِبليسِ

It was brought to us from Daskara’s abode

And escorted by Iblis’s troops.

فَلَم يَزَل يَنزُفُ المُدامَةَ مِن

مُنتَبِذٍ بِالبِزالِ مَنخوسِ

The wine continues to bleed

From a wineskin patched with rags.

كَالنَجمِ قَد لَجَّ في الغُروبِ وَقَد

أَنذَرَ بِالصُبحِ قَرعُ ناقوسِ

Like a star drowned in the sunset

Whose fall is warned by a bell’s tolls,

وَضَجَّ في الدَيرِ كُلُّ مُبتَهِجٍ

مُشَفَّعٍ لَيلَهُ بِتَقديسِ

Every reveler in the monastery rejoiced,

Blessing his night with prayers.

يَقولُ يا مَن يَبغي الكُنوزَ إِلى

رَزينِ تِبرٍ في الدَنِّ مَرموسِ

He says, oh you who seek treasures

In a guarded cellar full of dung—

تُصبِح غَنِيّاً مِنَ السُرورِ وَمِن

عَقلِكَ تُمسي مِنَ المَفاليسِ

You may wake up rich with joy

But sleep poor, bankrupted of reason.

مَن رامَ في تَركِيَ المُدامَ كَمَن

يَكتُبُ بِالماءِ في القَراطيسِ

He who tries to leave wine

Is like one who writes on water with a reed.