باكر إلى زهر الرياض واسقني

كاس الطلا فالراح راح الأنفس

Go at dawn to the Garden of Paradise, and give me to drink

a cup of wine—for wine is the repose of souls.

أو ما ترى نصب الربيع خيامه

فالروض فوق مطرف من سندس

Do you not see that spring has pitched its tents?

The meadow, then, lies upon an embroidered mantle of fine silk.