أَتانِيَ وَالإِصباحُ يَنهَضُ في الدُجى

بِصَفراءَ لَم تُفسَد بِطَبخٍ وَإِحراقِ

The dawn was rising midst the gloom when you appeared

With saffron-tinted wine that cooking never marred;

فَناوَلَنيها وَالثُرَيّا كَأَنَّها

جِنى نَرجِسٍ حَيّا النَدامى بِها الساقي

You proffered it as though it were the juice distilled

From narcissi - its limpid brightness stirred the pourer's heart.