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Then he drank off his cup, and when it came round to Him again, joyance got the mastery of him and he repeated the following verses:
Make thou thy boon-fellow of cups, brimmed up as full as this, And eke to follow cup with cup, I rede thee, do not miss,
Poured by a damask-lipped one’s hand, a wonder-lovely fair, Whose mouth’s sweet water, after sleep, as musk on apple is.
Drink not of wine, except it be from the hand of a gazelle, Whose cheek is goodlier than itself and sweeter still his kiss.
Presently, the wine crept to his head, drunkenness mastered him and he knew not hand from head, so that he swayed about for mirth, inclining anon to this one, to kiss him, and anon to another. Then he fell to glorying in himself and his case and the goodliness of his entertainment and his companions, and recited these verses:
None knoweth perfection of pleasure but he Who drinketh, with fair ones to hearten him still.
This sings to him, t’other, when cheer him would be, Revives him forthright with the cups he doth fill;
And whenever from one he hath need of a kiss, Long draughts from his lips, at his case, he doth swill.
God bless them! Right sweet has my day with them been, And wonder delightsome and void of all ill!
We drank of the wine-cup, both mingled and pure, And agreed whoso slept, we should touzle at will.
At this moment, there came a knocking at the door; so they bade him who knocked enter, and behold, it was the Khalif Haroun er Reshid. When they saw him, they all rose to him and kissed the ground before him; and the fumes of the wine forsook Abou Nuwas’s head for awe of the Khalif, who said to him, ‘Hallo, Abou Nuwas!’ ‘At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he, ‘may God preserve thee!’ ‘What state is this I find thee in?’ asked the Khalif; and the poet replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, methinks my state dispenses with question.’ Quoth the Khalif, ‘O Abou Nuwas, I
