Abdul Abulbul Amir

The sons of the prophet are brave men and bold And quite unaccustomed to fear And the bravest and bold was a man, I am told Called Abdul Abulbul Amir Now heroes were plenty and well-known to fame In the troops that were led by the Czar, And the bravest of same was a man by the name Of Ivan Skavinsky Skivar He could imitate Irving, play poker and pool And strum on a Spanish Guitar In fact, quite the cream of the Muscovite team Was Ivan Skavinsky Skivar One day this bold Russian had shouldered his gun And walked down the streets with a sneer Downtown he did go, where he trod on the toe Of Abdul Abulbul Amir "Young man," quote Abdul, "has your life grown so dull That you wish to end your career? Vile infidel! Know, you have trod on the toe of Abdul Abulbul Amir" "So take your last look at the sunshine and brook And send your regrets to the Czar By this I imply you are going to die, count Ivan Skavinsky Skivar" Said 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 moon shining bright The battle was heard from afar The police came in time to exchange the last line Of Abdul and Skavinsky Skivar Now a tomb rises up where the blue Danube flows Engraved there in characters clear "Ah, stranger, when passing, please 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 as oft as she weeps Is Ivan Skavinsky Skivar