SONG

Come, let's grant the joy to this heart of ours that founders in distress:
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . . .
Look, at the quay, a six-oared boat is waiting in readiness-
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . . . 

Let's laugh and play, let's enjoy the world to the hilt while we may,
Drink nectar at the fountain which was unveiled the other  day,
And watch the gargoyle sputter the elixir of life away-
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . 

First, for a while, let's take a stroll around the pond at leisure,
And gaze in marvel at that palace of heavenly pleasure;
Now and then, let's sing songs or recite poems for good measure-
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . 

Get your mother's leave, say it's for holy prayers this Friday:
Out of time's tormenting clutches let us both steal a day
And slinking through the secret roads and alleys down to the quay,
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . 

Just you and I, and a singer with exquisiste airs-and yet
Another: with your kind permission, Nedim, the mad poet;
Let's forget our boon companions today, my joyful coquette-
Let's go to the pleasure gardens, come, my sauntering cypress . 

Nedim (?1681-1730)
Translated by Talat Sait Halman