وَقَطِيعٍ كانَ أُفقاً لِلطِّلا

وَقَطِيعٍ كانَ أُفقاً لِلطِّلا

سَكَنَتهُ رِيقَةُ الشّهدِ لَمَا

سَكَنَتهُ رِيقَةُ الشّهدِ لَمَا

And a goblet that was a horizon for wine—

A flock was a horizon for the rising of dawn

Honey’s saliva dwelt within it as the dusky tint of lips.

It was calmed by a honeyed saliva when

لَيتَ شِعرِي واللَّيَالِي عِبَرٌ

لَيتَ شِعرِي واللَّيَالِي عِبَرٌ

مَن أَحَالَ الأُفقَ مِنهُ مَبسِمَا

مَن أَحَالَ الأُفقَ مِنهُ مَبسِمَا

Would that I knew—and the nights are lessons—

If only I knew, and the nights are a passage

Who turned its horizon into a smiling mouth?

Who made the horizon from it a smile