يَا أَدِيباً إِلَيْهِ كُلُّ أَدِيبٍ

رَاجِعٌ يَوْمَ حُجَّةٍ وَبَيَانِ

O man of letters, to whom every man of letters

Turns for guidance, eloquence and wisdom,

قِيلَ لِي إِنَّ فِي دِنَانِكَ خَمْراً

عُتِّقَتْ مُنْذُ حُقْبَةٍ فِي الدِّنَانِ

I am told your wine cellar holds a wine

That was set free in jars long ago,

خَلُصَتْ مِنْ دَمٍ وَرُدَّتْ لِمَاءٍ

ثُمَّ أَضْحَتْ رُوحاً بِفِعْلِ الزَّمَانِ

Freed from blood, returned to pure water,

Then by time's alchemy turned to spirit.

عَرَقُ الذُّوقِ آيَةُ الذَّوقِ فِيمَا

وَصَفوُهُ وَغَايَةُ الإِتْقَانِ

The sweat of taste is the sign of taste in what

They have described, the pinnacle of craft.

فَإِذَا كَانَ مِنْهُ عِنْدَكَ فَضْلٌ

فَابْذُلِ الفَضْلَ وَاغْتَنِمْ شُكْرَانِي

So if you have a surplus of such a wine,

Give generously and accept my gratitude.