أَيَا نِشْوَانُ مِنْ خَمْرٍ بِفِيْهِ

مَتَى تَصْحُو وَرِيْقُكَ خَنْدَرِيْسُ

O you intoxicated with wine

When will you wake, your spittle sweet?

أَرَى بِكَ مَا أَرَاهُ بِذِي انْتِشَاءٍ

أَلَحَّ عَلَيْهِ بِالْكَأسِ الجَلِيْسُ

I see in you what I see in one made tipsy -

His boon companion pressed the cup on him.

تَوَرُّدُ وَجْنَةٍ وَفُتُورُ لَحْظٍ

تُمَرِّضُهُ وَأَعْطَافٌ تَمِيْسُ

The rose garden's blush, the languor of a glance -

She makes him sick, and sidelong looks caress.