يا مَجْلِساً أَيْنَعَتْ مِنْهُ أزاهِرهُ

يُنْسيكَ أَوَّلَهُ في الحُسْنِ آخِرُهُ

O gathering place, from which its flowers have blossomed

Its early beauty makes you forget its later beauty

لم يَدْرِ هَلْ باتَ فِيهِ نَاعِماً جَذِلاً

أو باتَ في جَنّةِ الفِردوسِ سامِرُهُ

It doesn’t know whether it spent the night comfortably dozing

Or in the gardens of Paradise did its night visitor spend the night

وَالعُودُ يَخْفِقُ مَثْناهُ وَمَثْلثُهُ

والصُّبحُ قدْ غَرَّدتْ فِيه عَصافِرُهُ

The oud quivers its strings and doubles and triples,

And morning birds have trilled out their songs in it

وَلِلْحِجارَةِ أَهْزَاجٌ إِذَا نَطَقَتْ

أَجابَها مِنْ طُيُورِ البَرِّ ناقرُهُ

And when the stones speak they have conversations

Answered by the chattering desert birds

وحَنَّ مِنْ بَيْنِها الكُثْبانُ عنْ نَغَمٍ

تُبْدِي عَنِ الصَّبِّ ما تُخْفي ضَمائِرُهُ

And from between them the sand dunes sing a melody

Revealing from passion what their consciences conceal

كأنَّما العُودُ فِيما بَيْنَنا مَلكٌ

يَمشي الهُوينا وتَتْلوهُ عَساكِرهُ

It's as if between us the oud is an angel

Walking slowly as its soldiers follow it

كَأنَّهُ إِذْ تَمَطَّى وهْيَ تَتْبعُهُ

كِسرى بنُ هُرمُز تَقْفُوهُ أَساوِرُه

As if when it struts and allure follows it

Khosrow Parviz follows it with his bracelets

ذاكَ المَصُونُ الذِي لو كان مُبْتَذلاً

ما كان يَكْسِرُ بَيْتَ الشّعْرِ كاسِرُهُ

That well-guarded one who if he were revealed

None could compete with the maker of this poem

صَوْتٌ رَشِيقٌ وَضَربٌ لو يُراجِعُهُ

سَجْعُ القَريض إذا ضَلَّتْ أَساطِرُهُ

A gentle voice and rhythm - if it were to revise

The prosody of poems when their lines go astray

لو كانَ زِرْيابُ حَياً ثم أُسمِعَهُ

لماتَ مِنْ حَسَدٍ إِذْ لا يُناظِرُهُ

If Ziryab were alive and heard it

He would die of envy for none can match it