Throw into the water, O cupbearer, the duckling born of water

Hurry and hurry, first, the young men drunk with youth

O soul of spring and autumn, O Hatem of stories and wine

Fill with sugar, like a reed, the lute of Abubakr al-Rabab

O cupbearer of tumult and evil, come, take up pleasure from the beginning

Fill with red wine the large wine jug and the small wine cup

Show, from the auspicious wine, this side 'akh' and that side 'akh'

Snatch the veil from the face of the veiled beloved

Bravo, what a friend he is, what a thornless branch of a rose he is

Well done, what a medicine for hearts roasted (with love)

Look, a hundred circles are distracted from that unseen wine

This wine will make the business of a hundred glazed wine jars dull

The drunkards of the meadow are hidden, the blossoms scatter from the branches

A hundred mountains, like pebbles rolling in a flood of bubbles

If that bright cup is the soul, hidden from the body

It is not possible to hide drunkenness and ruin

We are like green fields, O soul, in this field

Having become thirsty and seeking the rain of a cloud

Since you are like thunder, you are not silent, since this awareness is your veil

And from patience and annihilation, you draw the parrot of oratory