Dusky and dark is the maiden of sands

Veils and beads and bells on hands

Dusky and dark my Lady stands

Serpentine-like, of ancient lands.

More ancient still, the music starts

Rhythmic drum doth catch the heart.

Soft rustle of skirts, her dance begins

Moving slowly, slowly, slowly.

As countless as grains of shifting sand

Are men fallen to her command

By this dance, seduction planned

And embers to flames of passion fanned.

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A flash of gold and glimpse of skin

A glint of ruby, nestled within

Undulating belly, now thick, now thin.

Tempo fortissimo, mayest hear the din.

Her wild hair, long and raven black

Caresses the air, her neck and back

And, at her hips, skirts gossamer-thin

Twirling wildly, wildly, wildly.

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Deceitful are Scheherezade’s eyes

Inviting, beckoning, telling lies

Of Arabian suns and desert breeze

Blowing softly, softly, softly.