O Islão bom  (VIII)

Abu Nuwas

Don't cry for Layla,

don't rave about Hind!

But drink among roses a rose-red wine,

a draught that descends in the drinker's throat,

bestowing its redness on eyes and cheeks.

The wine is a ruby, the glass is a pearl,

served by the hand of a slim-fingered girl,

who serves you the wine from her hand,

and wine from her mouth — doubly drunk, for sure, will you be.

Thus I am drunk twice, my friends only once:

a favor special, for me alone!