أَأَدمَيتَ بِالماءِ القَراحِ جَبينَها

أَأَدمَيتَ بِالماءِ القَراحِ جَبينَها

لِتَسمَعَ في صَحنِ الزُجاجِ أَنينَها

لِتَسمَعَ في صَحنِ الزُجاجِ أَنينَها

Have you bloodied her brow with pure water,

Did you wet her fevered brow with cool water

Did you bloody her brow with water, clear and cold,

To hear her moaning in the glass bowl?

To hear her moan resonate in the glass bowl?

To hear, within the glass, her weeping told?

فَقَد سَمِعَت أُذناكَ عِندَ مِزاجِها

فَقَد سَمِعَت أُذناكَ عِندَ مِزاجِها

أَنيناً وَأَلحاناً تُجيبُ دَنينَها

أَنيناً وَأَلحاناً تُجيبُ دَنينَها

For your ears have heard, when she was mixed,

For when her temper rose, your ears did know

For your ears have heard, as the mixture blends,

A moan and melodies answering her hum.

The tunes and sighs that met her soft growl.

The moans and melodies her humming sends.

فَصُنها عَنِ الماءِ القَراحِ وَهاتِها

فَصُنها عَنِ الماءِ القَراحِ وَهاتِها

فَإِنَّكَ إِن لَم تَسقِني مِتُّ دونَها

فَإِنَّكَ إِن لَم تَسقِني مِتُّ دونَها

So shield her from pure water, and bring her;

Spare her the chill water and draw near

So guard her from the water, and pour her pure,

For if you do not give me drink, I shall die without her.

For if you let me perish, no more cheer

For without this draught, my death is sure.

بِآنِيَةٍ مَخروطَةٍ مِن زَبَرجَدٍ

بِآنِيَةٍ مَخروطَةٍ مِن زَبَرجَدٍ

تَخَيَّرَ كِسرى خَرطَها لِيَصونَها

تَخَيَّرَ كِسرى خَرطَها لِيَصونَها

In vessels turned from chrysolite,

Will come from cups of emerald and jade

In a tapered vessel of chrysolite stone,

Whose turning Khosrow chose to keep her safe,

Which Kisra's self did choose with utmost care

Which Chosroes fashioned to keep as his own;

بِكَفٍّ تَكادُ الكَأسُ تُدمي بَنانَها

بِكَفٍّ تَكادُ الكَأسُ تُدمي بَنانَها

إِذا أُزعِجَ التَحريكُ مِنها سُكونَها

إِذا أُزعِجَ التَحريكُ مِنها سُكونَها

In a hand whose fingertips the cup nearly bloodies,

Lest hands should trouble stillness when they laid

In a hand so soft, the cup might wound the skin,

When movement disturbs the stillness within it.

Along the rim and roused slumbering there

When movement stirs the stillness held within.

كَأَنَّ رِجالَ الهِندِ حَولَ إِنائِها

كَأَنَّ رِجالَ الهِندِ حَولَ إِنائِها

عَكوفٌ عَلى خَيلٍ تُديرُ مُتونَها

عَكوفٌ عَلى خَيلٍ تُديرُ مُتونَها

As though men of India around her vessel

Turbaned Hindi chiefs round chargers stayed

As if men of Ind, encircling the vase,

Were bent over horses wheeling their backs.

While steeds curvetted underneath their stare

Were bent on steeds, wheeling in the chase.