Abdul Abulbul Amir

The sons of the prophet are brave men and bold
And quite unaccustomed to fear
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Shah
Was Abdul Abulbul Amir

Now heroes were plenty and well known to fame
In the troops that were led by the Tsar;
But the bravest of these was a man by the name
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

One day this bold Russian had shouldered his gun
And donned his most truculent sneer
Downtown he did go
Where he trod on the toe of Abdul Abulbul Amir

"Young man," quoth Abdul, "has lifе grown so dull
That you wish to end your career?
Vile infidel, know you havе trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir."

"So take your last look at sunshine and brook
And send your regrets to the Tsar;
By this I imply you are going to die
Mr. Ivan Skavinsky Skavar."

Quoth Ivan, "My friend, your remarks, in the end
Will avail you but little, I fear
For you ne'er will survive to repeat them alive
Mr. Abdul Abulbul Amir!"

They fought all that night 'neath the pale yellow moon
The din, it was heard from afar;
And great multitudes came, so great was the fame
Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar

The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly
Expecting the victor to cheer;
But he only drew nigh just to hear the last sigh
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

Tsar Petrovich, too, in his spectacles blue
Rode up in his new crested car
He arrived just in time to exchange a last line
With Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

There the tomb rises up where the blue Danube flows
Engraved in characters clear
Are, "Stranger, when passing, O pray for the soul
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir."

A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps
Neath the light of the pale polar star;
And the name that she murmurs so oft as she weeps
Is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar