1. هيَ حَانَةٌ شَتَّى عَجَائبُهَا

    مَعْرُوشَةٌ بالزَّهْرِ والقَصَبِ

    It is a tavern, its wonders manifold,

    trellised with blossoms and reeds,

  2. في ظُلَّةٍ باتَتْ تُدَاعِبُهَا

    أنْفَاسُ لَيْلٍ مُقْمِرِ السُّحُبِ

    in a bower, caressed all night

    by the breaths of a night with moonlit clouds.

  3. وَزَهَتْ بِمِصْبَاحٍ جَوَانِبُهَا

    صَافِي الزُّجَاجَةِ رَاقِصِ اللَّهَبِ

    Its sides glowed with a lamp,

    of clear glass and dancing flame.

  4. «بَاخُوسُ» فِيهَا وَهْوُ صَاحِبُهَا

    لَمْ يَخْلُ حِينَ أَفَاقَ مِنْ عَجَبِ

    Bacchus is there, and he is its owner;

    when he awoke, he was not without wonder.

  5. قَدْ ظَنَّهَا، وَالسِّحْرُ قَالبُها،

    شِيدَتْ مِنض الْيَاقُوتِ وَالذَّهَبِ

    He thought it, with magic as its mold,

    was built of rubies and gold.

  6. إبريقُهُ حَلْيٌ منَ الدُّرَرِ

    يُزْهَى به قَدَحٌ مِنَ الْمَاسِ

    His ewer is an ornament of pearls;

    a diamond goblet is adorned by it.

  7. وكأنَّ ما حوْليه من صُوَرِ

    متحركاتٌ ذاتُ أنفاسِ

    And the images around him seem

    to move and breathe;

  8. تركتْ مواضِعَهَا من الأُطُرِ

    وَمَشَتْ له في شِبْهِ أعراسِ

    they left their places in the frames

    and walked toward him as though in wedding revels.

  9. منهنَّ عازفةٌ على وَتَرِ

    مُتَفَجِّرٍ بِأَرَقِّ إِحْسَاسِ

    Among them, a woman plays a string

    bursting with the tenderest feeling,

  10. وغريرةٌ حوراءُ كالقمرِ

    تَحْنُو على شَفَتَيْهِ بالكاسِ

    and an innocent, dark-eyed girl, like the moon,

    bends tenderly toward his lips with the cup.

  11. أَوَتلكَ حانَتُهُ؟ فوا عجبَا!

    أم صُنْعُ أحلامٍ وأهواءِ؟

    And is that his tavern? Oh, what wonder!

    Or the work of dreams and desires?

  12. وَمَنِ الخيالُ أهلَّ واقتربا

    «فينُوس» خارجةً من الماءِ!

    And who is the apparition that appeared and drew near?

    Venus, emerging from the water!

  13. في موكب يتمثلُ الطَّربَا

    ويميلُ من سحرٍ وإغراءِ

    In a procession embodying rapture,

    swaying with enchantment and allure,

  14. وبكلِّ ناحيةٍ فَتًى وثبا

    متعلقًا بذراعِ حسناءِ

    and in every corner a young man has sprung up,

    clinging to a beauty's arm.

  15. يتَوَهَّجون صبابةً وصِبًا

    يتمثَّلونَ غريبَ أزياءِ

    They glow with yearning and youth,

    appearing in outlandish costumes.

  16. حُمْرُ الثيابِ تخَالُ أنَّهمُو

    يَفِدُونَ من حانوت قصَّابِ!

    Red are their clothes; you would think they

    come from a butcher's shop!

  17. جلسوا نشاوى مِثْلَمَا قَدِمُوا

    يترقَّبون منافذَ البابِ

    They sat down drunk, just as they had arrived,

    watching the entrances expectantly.

  18. يتَهامسون، وهَمْسُهُمْ نغَمٌ

    يسري على رنَّاتِ أكوابِ

    They whisper together, and their whispering is a melody

    flowing over the clinking of cups.

  19. إنْ تسألِ الخمَّارَ، قال: هُمُو

    عُشَّاقُ فَنٍّ، أهلُ آدابِ

    If you ask the tavern keeper, he says: “They are

    lovers of art, men of letters.”

  20. لولا دُخانُ التَّبغ خلْتَهمُو

    أنصافَ آلهةٍ وأربابِ

    But for the tobacco smoke, you would take them

    for demigods and divinities.

  21. مِن كلِّ مُرْسِل شَعْرهِ حِلَقَا

    وكأَنها قِطَعٌ منَ الحَلَكِ

    Among them is many a man, his hair loose in ringlets,

    as though they were pieces of darkness.

  22. غلْيُونهُ يَسْتَشْرِفُ الْأُفُقَا

    ويكاد يُحْرِقُ قُبَّةَ الفَلَك

    His pipe peers toward the horizon,

    almost burning the dome of heaven.

  23. أمسى يُبَعْثِرُ حوله وَرَقَا

    فَكَأَنَّهُ في وسْطِ مُعْتَرَكِ

    At evening he began scattering papers around him,

    as though in the midst of a battlefield.

  24. فإذا أتاهُ وَحْيُهُ انطلَقَا

    يُجْرِي اليَرَاعَ بكَفِّ مُرْتَبكِ

    Then, when his inspiration comes, he launches forth,

    driving the reed pen with a fumbling hand,

  25. ويقول شعرًا كيفما اتَّفَقَا

    يُغْرِي ذوات الثُّكْلِ بالضِّحِكِ

    and recites verse however it happens to come,

    enticing bereaved women to laugh.

  26. «باخُوسُ» يَرْوِي عنْ غرائبهمْ

    شَتَّى أحَادِيثٍ وأنْبَاءِ

    Bacchus recounts their oddities,

    all kinds of tales and tidings:

  27. قِصصٌ تَداوَلُ عن صَواحبهمْ

    وعن الصَّبَايَا فِتْنَةِ الرَّائي

    stories passed around about their female companions,

    and about the girls who enchant the beholder,

  28. وعن الخطيئَةِ في مذاهبهمْ

    بَدَأَتْ بآدم أمْ بحَوَّاءِ

    and about sin in their doctrines:

    did it begin with Adam or with Eve?

  29. والمُلْهِمات إلى جوانبهمْ

    يُكْثِرْنَ من غَمْزٍ وإيماءِ

    And the muses at their sides

    keep winking and gesturing;

  30. يَعْجَبْنَ من فِعْل الشَّرَابِ بِهِمْ

    ويَلُذْنَ من سَأَمٍ بِإِغْفَاءِ

    they marvel at what drink does to them,

    and seek refuge from boredom in a doze.

  31. وتَلَفَّتُوا لمَّا بدا شَبَحٌ!

    فَنَّانةٌ دَلَفَتْ من البابِ

    And they turned when a figure appeared!

    An artist slipped in through the door,

  32. سمراءُ بالأزهار تتَّشحُ

    ألْقَتْ غُلَالتها بإعجابِ

    a dark-skinned woman draped in flowers.

    She cast off her gauzy robe with pride,

  33. ومَشت تُراقصهم فما لَمَحُوا

    إلَّا خُطَى رُوحٍ وأعصابِ

    and moved, dancing with them; they glimpsed

    only the steps of spirit and nerves.

  34. وسَرَى بِسِرِّ رحيقِهِ القَدَحُ

    في صَوْتِ شاجي اللَّحنِ مِطْرَابِ

    And the cup, with the secret of its nectar, flowed

    through a singer's voice, plaintive and rapturous.

  35. وشدا بجوِّ الحانَةِ الفَرَحُ

    لإلهةٍ فَرَّتْ من الغابِ

    And joy sang through the tavern's air

    for a goddess who had fled the forest.

  36. هيَ رَقْصَةٌ وَكَأَنَّهَا حُلُمٌ

    وإذا «بفينوسٍ» تمدُّ يدَا

    It is a dance, as though a dream;

    then suddenly Venus stretches out a hand,

  37. الكأْسُ فيها وهي تضطرمُ

    قلبٌ يهزُّ نداؤُه الأَبَدَا:

    the cup in it, while she is aflame—

    a heart whose cry shakes eternity:

  38. زِنْجَيَّةٌ في الفنِّ تحتكُم؟

    قد ضاع فنُّ الخالدينَ سُدَى!

    “A Black woman sits in judgment on art?

    The art of the immortals has been wasted in vain!”

  39. فأجابت السمراءُ تبتسمُ:

    الفنُّ روحًا كان؟ أم جَسَدا؟

    Then the dark-skinned woman answered, smiling:

    “Is art spirit, or body?

  40. يا أيها الشعراءُ وَيْحَكُمُ

    الليلُ ولَّى والنهارُ بدا!

    O poets, woe to you!

    Night has passed, and day has dawned!”