يا عاذِلي بِمَلامٍ مُرَّ بِالياسِ

يا عاذِلي بِمَلامٍ مُرَّ بِالياسِ

فَلَستُ أُقلِعُ عَن رَيحانَةِ الكاسِ

فَلَستُ أُقلِعُ عَن رَيحانَةِ الكاسِ

O you who reproach me with blame, pass on in despair.

O you who blame me with bitter reproach

O you who reproach me with blame, resign yourself to despair,

For I will not forsake the cup's sweet basil.

I will not refrain from the wine of the cup

For I shall not desist from the fragrant basil of the wine cup,

تَباعَدَ العَذلُ عَن قَلبي عَلى ثِقَةٍ

تَباعَدَ العَذلُ عَن قَلبي عَلى ثِقَةٍ

كَما تَباعَدَ بَينَ الوَردِ وَالآسِ

كَما تَباعَدَ بَينَ الوَردِ وَالآسِ

Reproach has surely drawn far from my heart,

Reproach has withdrawn from my heart with trust

Censure has distanced itself from my heart with certainty,

As the rose and the myrtle have drawn apart.

As the distance between a rose and thorns

Just as the rose stands distant from the myrtle,

إِنَّ المِزاجَ لَها إِلفٌ يُعانِقُها

إِنَّ المِزاجَ لَها إِلفٌ يُعانِقُها

وَفيهِ طَعمٌ يُحاكي قُبلَةَ الحاسي

وَفيهِ طَعمٌ يُحاكي قُبلَةَ الحاسي

Indeed, the admixture is her intimate companion, embracing her,

Indeed it has an intimacy that embraces it

The water mixed within is a companion that embraces it,

And in it is a taste like the sipper's kiss.

With a taste that rivals the kiss of the senses

Possessing a taste that mimics the kiss of the sipper,

فَاِشرَب نَديمي عَلى العَينَينِ وَالراسِ

فَاِشرَب نَديمي عَلى العَينَينِ وَالراسِ

كَذاكَ وَاِستَفتِحِ اللَذّاتِ بِالكاسِ

كَذاكَ وَاِستَفتِحِ اللَذّاتِ بِالكاسِ

So drink, my boon companion—upon my eyes and head!

So drink, my friend, for the eyes and head

So drink, my boon companion, with all honor and delight,

Just so; and begin the pleasures with the cup.

Open up pleasures thus with the cup

Just so, and inaugurate the rites of pleasure with the goblet,

وَغَنِّني قَد أَجابَ العودُ شائِقَهُ

وَغَنِّني قَد أَجابَ العودُ شائِقَهُ

وَحَرَّكَ النايُ مِنّي بَعضَ وَسواسي

وَحَرَّكَ النايُ مِنّي بَعضَ وَسواسي

And sing to me: the lute has already answered the one who yearns for it,

And sing, for the lute has answered its lover

And sing to me, for the oud has answered the one who yearns for it,

And the reed flute stirred some of my inward whisperings.

And the flute stirs some passions in me

And the reed flute has stirred within me some of my inner whispers,

يا موقِدَ النارِ قَد أَعيَت قَوادِحُهُ

يا موقِدَ النارِ قَد أَعيَت قَوادِحُهُ

اِقبِس إِذا شِئتَ مِن قَلبي بِمِقباسِ

اِقبِس إِذا شِئتَ مِن قَلبي بِمِقباسِ

O kindler of fire, whose fire-strikers have failed,

O kindler of fire, your cups are exhausted

O kindler of fire whose flint stones have failed him,

Take fire, if you wish, from my heart with a torch.

Light, if you wish, from my heart with a lighter

Light your brand, if you wish, from the fire in my heart.