لَم يَنَم هَمّي وَلَم أَنَمِ

نَهبُ كَفَّ الوَجدِ وَالسَقَمِ

My anxiety did not sleep, nor did I sleep

Prey to the grip of passion and sickness

في سَبيلِ العاشِقينَ هَوىً

لَم أَنَل مِنهُ سِوى التُهَمِ

Along the path of lovers, infatuated

I gained from it nothing but accusations

وَلَقَد أَغدوا عَلى أَثَرٍ

لِلحَيا راضٍ عَنِ الدَيمِ

They went early in the morning

Content with life, pleased with their fate

حينَ دَبَّ الفَجرُ مُنبَلِجاً

كَدَبيبِ النارِ في الفَحَمِ

When dawn emerged, scintillating

Like embers glowing under ash

وَغُصونُ الرَوضِ يُرقِصُها

نَشرُ ريحِ ظِلِّهِ الوَهَمِ

And the garden branches dancing

Stirred by the fancy of its shade

فَاِسقِني لِلراحِ صافِيَةً

تَنشُرُ الإِصباحَ في الظُلَمِ

Give me, for relief, drink pure

That will spread morning through the gloom

فَإِذا ما الماءُ خالَطَها

راضَ مِنها سَهلَةَ الشَيَّمِ

When water mixes into it

It pleases, smooth and refined

وَنَفى مَكروهَ سورَتِها

ثُمَّ هَدّاها إِلى الكَرَمِ

Dispels the bitterness of its face

Then calms it into generosity

وَاِكتَسِب مِن شَكلِهِ حَبَباً

بَينَ مَنثورٍ وَمُنتَظِمِ

And gains from its shape a beloved

Scattered, yet composed

رَحلُها كَفٌّ تَسيرُ بِهِ

مِن فَمِ الإِبريقِ نَحوَ فَمي

Its journey is a palm that moves

From jug spout to my mouth

وَكَساها قِخرَ لُؤلُؤَةٍ

لَيسَ فيها سِرُّ مُكتَتِمِ

Cloaked in the foam of pearl

With no secret left concealed

رَشَأٌ قَد زانَ طُرَّتَهُ

مَشقُ نونٍ لَيسَ بِالقَلَمِ

Fine wine that has adorned its gear

Not written but poured from the fountain

لا تَلُم عَقلي وَلُم نَظَري

إِنَّ عَقلي غَيرُ مُتَّهَمِ

Do not blame my mind, but blame my vision

My mind is not to be blamed

لي وَتَركي في المُدامِ فَيا

لائِمي أَقصِر وَلا تَلُمِ

For me and my abandoning revelry, so

My critic, be brief and do not blame