سَقَى اللهُ أيَّامَ الصَّبَابَةِ وَالهَوَى

سَقَى اللهُ أيَّامَ الصَّبَابَةِ وَالهَوَى

وَعًصرَ الشّبابِ الغَضِّ أكرِم بِهِ عَصرَا

وَعًصرَ الشّبابِ الغَضِّ أكرِم بِهِ عَصرَا

May God water the days of yearning and love,

God watered the days of my youth and passion,

And the age of tender youth—how noble an age!—

And the prime of my blossoming green age; may He bless a time!

سَحَاباً يدِرّ المَاءَ في مَحلِ رَوضِهَا

سَحَاباً يدِرّ المَاءَ في مَحلِ رَوضِهَا

وَيُنبِتُ فِي أَغصَانِهَا الوَرَقَ الخُضرَا

وَيُنبِتُ فِي أَغصَانِهَا الوَرَقَ الخُضرَا

With clouds pouring water upon their drought-stricken garden,

A cloud that pours water in the place of its meadow,

And bringing forth green leaves upon their branches.

And makes its branches grow green leaves.

وَجَادَ أَصِيلاً بالقصيبَة لَم يُضَف

وَجَادَ أَصِيلاً بالقصيبَة لَم يُضَف

إِلَى حُسنِهِ عَيبٌ سِوَى أنَّهُ مَرّا

إِلَى حُسنِهِ عَيبٌ سِوَى أنَّهُ مَرّا

And may He drench a late afternoon at al-Qusaybah, unmarred

It yielded copiously, that beauty without blemish added

In its beauty by any flaw save that it passed.

Except that it was bitter.

إِذِ الشَّمسُ تَحكِينِي وَتَحكِي مُعَذِّبي

إِذِ الشَّمسُ تَحكِينِي وَتَحكِي مُعَذِّبي

بِما احمَرَّ مِنهَا لِلغُرُوبِ وَمَا اصفَرّا

بِما احمَرَّ مِنهَا لِلغُرُوبِ وَمَا اصفَرّا

When the sun mirrored me and mirrored my tormentor

When the sun reproaches me and reproaches my tormentor

In its redness at sunset and its yellow hue.

With what turned red from it at sunset and what turned yellow.

وراحَةُ مَن أهوَى وبَارِقُ ثَغرِهِ

وراحَةُ مَن أهوَى وبَارِقُ ثَغرِهِ

وَلَحظَتُهُ الوَطفَاءُ تَمزِج لِي خَمرَا

وَلَحظَتُهُ الوَطفَاءُ تَمزِج لِي خَمرَا

And the palm of the one I love, and the lightning of his mouth,

The solace of the one I love, the gleam of his smile,

And his long-lashed glance mix wine for me.

And his dewy glance blends intoxicating wine for me.

فَقَامَت بِهِ حَولِي سقاةٌ كَثِيرَةٌ

فَقَامَت بِهِ حَولِي سقاةٌ كَثِيرَةٌ

مُنَى كُلِّ ساقٍ أن أمِيدَ لَهُ سُكرَا

مُنَى كُلِّ ساقٍ أن أمِيدَ لَهُ سُكرَا

So many cupbearers rose around me with it,

Many cupbearers arose around me,

Each cupbearer's wish: that I reel for him, drunk.

The wish of every pourer to extend intoxication to me.

فَلَم أدرِ مِمَّا كنت أُسقَى هَل الهَوَى

فَلَم أدرِ مِمَّا كنت أُسقَى هَل الهَوَى

شَرِبتُ أمِ الصَّهبَاءَ صِرفاً أمِ السِّحرَا

شَرِبتُ أمِ الصَّهبَاءَ صِرفاً أمِ السِّحرَا

So I did not know what I was being given to drink: was it love

I know not whether from that which I was given to drink, was it passion

I drank, or undiluted tawny wine, or magic?

That I drank or was it pure magic or sorcery.

سلامٌ عَلَى ذَاكَ الأَصِيلِ وَطِيبِهِ

سلامٌ عَلَى ذَاكَ الأَصِيلِ وَطِيبِهِ

يُرَدَّدُ مَا مَرَّ الأصِيلُ وَمَا مَرَّا

يُرَدَّدُ مَا مَرَّ الأصِيلُ وَمَا مَرَّا

Peace upon that late afternoon and its sweetness,

Greetings to that beauty and its goodness,

Repeated whenever late afternoon passes—and it never grew bitter.

Repeated is the beauty and what was repeated.