O Khadja, give us lawfully a single one of our desires;
reserve thy breath and lead us into the way of God.
Surely we walk aright, it is thou that seest crosswise;
heal, then, thine eyes and leave us here in peace.
Come, come, arise, and, for the healing of my heart,
one problem solve for me: yet quickly bring me a pitcher
of wine, and let us drink before they make pitchers out
of our own dust.
When I am dead, wash me with the juice of the vine;
in place of prayer, sing above my tomb the praise of
the cup and the wine, and, if you would find me again
at the day of doom, seek me in the dust of the tavern
floor.
Since no one has ever been able to answer thee from
one day to the next, hasten to glad thy heart filled with
sadness. Drink, O adorable Moon! drink from thy silver
cup, for long shalt thou turn in the firmament without
finding us here again.
Would that the lover [the true believer] were intoxicated
the whole year, mad, absorbed with wine, covered
with dishonor! For, when we have sound reason, chagrin
assails us on all sides; but when we are in wine, well,
let come what will!