Across the hot sands, towards fertile lands
On our swinging camels we forward fly
On a heaven of lead, on the sands of red
Shines the sun, as it goes on high.
O camels go, to waters that flow,
Where the green palms wave in the breeze.
Forward, forward fly, passing swiftly by,
Till we see the waters and trees.
Sing, sing, each step shall bring
Us nearer to our journey’s end.
Across hot sands, towards fertile lands,
Till red into green doth blend.
Brothers, brothers sing as we go, towards waters that flow,
And palms whose branches wave on high.
Camels trotting, camels swaying, each step bringing
Us to our haven of rest more nigh.
They gleam, they gleam, ’neath the sun’s bright beam,
And the waters like silver glow.
And green branches move in the fronded grove
With the zephyrs that come and go.
The journey is done, our course is run,
And we lie ’neath the grateful shade.
Brothers sleep, in slumbers deep,
And dream of some faithful Arab maid.