1. هاتِ اِسقِني الراحَ في الياقوتِ كَالذَهَبِ

    صَفراءَ يَطفو عَلَيها لُؤلُؤُ الحَبَبِ

    Bring it! Pour me wine like gold in a ruby cup,

    yellow, with pearls of foam floating on it.

  2. شَمسُ المُدامِ إِذا ما الماءُ خالَطَها

    بِالمَزجِ زانَت سَماءَ الكَأسِ بِالشُهُبِ

    The sun of wine, whenever water mingles with it,

    through blending, adorns the cup's sky with shooting stars.

  3. وَخَيرُ ما رَوَّحَ الساقي بِراحَتِهِ

    في كَأسِهِ اِبنُ سَحابٍ بِاِبنَةِ العِنَبِ

    And the finest refreshment the cupbearer offers with his palm

    in his cup is a cloud's son with the grape's daughter.

  4. وَالعودُ يَخطُبُ إِذ نَحنُ الشُهودُ وَصَو

    تُ النايِ مُصطَخِبٌ في زيِّ مُصطَحِبِ

    And the oud declaims, while we are witnesses, and the sound

    of the reed flute resounds in a companion's guise.

  5. حَتّى نَرى شارِبَ الصَّهباءِ مِن طَرَبٍ

    كَأَنَّهُ صاحِبُ الشَّهباءِ في حَلَبِ

    Until, in rapture, we see the drinker of tawny wine

    as though he were the lord of al-Shahba in Aleppo.

  6. من كَفّ أَحوَرَ تُركِيّ لَواحِظُهُ

    أَمضى مِنَ السُمرِ وَالمُبيَضَّةِ القُضُبِ

    From the palm of a dark-eyed Turk, whose sidelong glances

    are keener than brown spears and gleaming-white swords;

  7. حُلوُ المَراشِفِ مُهتَزُّ الرَّوادِفِ مَع

    شوقُ المَعاطِفِ في جِدٍّ وَفي لَعِبِ

    sweet-lipped, with swaying buttocks, beloved

    for his body's curves, in earnest and in play.

  8. إِذا أَدارَ كُمَيتَ الرَّاحِ مُبتَسِماً

    أَصبى الكُماةَ رِجالَ الحَربِ وَهوَ صَبي

    When, smiling, he passes round the dark-red wine,

    he captivates armored warriors, men of war, though he is a boy.

  9. تَرمي لَواحِظُهُ عَن قَوسِ حاجِبِهِ

    نَبلاً بِها الناسُ في حَربٍ وَفي حَرَبِ

    His glances shoot from the bow of his eyebrow

    arrows that leave people in war and in ruin.

  10. وَالرَّاحُ ما وَلَجَت في في أَخي كَرَمٍ

    إِلّا اِحتَبا بِاِبتِسامِ الفَضلِ وَالأَدَبِ

    And wine never enters a generous man's mouth

    without his girding himself with the smile of virtue and courtesy.

  11. فَهوَ الجَوادُ بِما تَحوي أَنامِلُهُ

    حَيُّ الرِضى في النَدامى مَيِّتُ الغَضَبِ

    So he is generous with whatever his fingertips hold,

    his goodwill alive among his drinking companions, his anger dead.