Abdul the Bulbul

Two very common birds and an old poem, of which, I am ashamed to say, there is a slightly less tasteful version but it is not for quoting here. It is more "Chopped Onions" style.





ABDUL EL BULBUL AMIR

The sons of the Prophet were brave men and bold
And quite unaccustomed to fear
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Shah
Was Abdul el Bulbul Amir
If you wanted a man to encourage the van
Or to harass the foe in the rear
Storm fort or redoubt you had only to shout
For Abdul el Bulbul Amir

There were heroes in plenty and well known to fame
In the troops that were led by the Czar
But none of more fame than a man by the name
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skivar
He could sing like Caruso, both tenor and bass
And perform on the 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 put on his most arrogant sneer
Down town he did go where he trod on the toe
Of Abdul el Bulbul Amir
Young man, quoth Abdul, Has your life grown so dull
that you're anxious to end your career?
Vile infidel know, you have trod on the toe
Of Abdul el Bulbul Amir

So take your last look at both sunshine and brook
And send your regrets to the Czar
By which 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
You will never survive to repeat them alive
Mr Abdul el Bulbul Amir

Then that bold Mameluke drew his trusty skibouk
And shouted out, Allah Akbar!
With murderous intent he ferociously went
For Ivan Skavinsky Skivar
They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed
Of blood they spilled a great part
The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes
Say that hash was first made on the spot

They fought all that night neath the pale yellow moon
The din, it was heard from afar
And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame,
Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar
As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life
In fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly
Expecting the victor to cheer
But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir
There's a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls
And graved there in characters clear
Is, Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night
Caused ripples to spread wide and far
It was made by a sack fitting close to the back
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps,
'Neath the light of the cold northern star,
And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps,
Is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar