يا رَبُّ يَومٍ قَد مَضى
بِالقادِسيَّةِ لَو يَدومُ
O Lord of a day now past
In Al-Qadisiya, would that it might last
في ظِلِّ كَرمٍ لا يَطو
فُ بِهِ الهَجيرُ وَلا السُمومُ
In the shade of a vine that knows no blight
Where neither exile nor poison might alight
وَسَمائُهُ الوَرَقُ الجَدي
دُ وَأَرضُهُ الوَرَقُ الهَشيمُ
Its sky is the new leaf’s green
Its earth the fallen leaf’s sheen
وَيَحُثُّني بِالكَأسِ سا
قٍ لَحظُ مُقلَتِهِ سَقيمُ
A sickly glance from the wine-bearer’s eye
Tempts me with the cup raised high
أَغرى بِقُبلَتِهِ كَما
يَغرى بِمُرضِعَةٍ يَتيمُ
As lured by his kiss like an orphan child
Lured by the breast it has reviled
يا مَن يَلومُ عَلى الهَوى
دَعَني فَذا داءٌ قَديمُ
O you who blame me for love
Leave me be, for my hurt is old enough
