O’er the sands the sun was slowly rising,
On the Market place in old Algiers;
Caravans and camels were arriving,
With their laces and their souveniers.
There I met s dark-haired Arab maiden,
Lost my heart within her dark brown eyes.
Taught her how to understand I loved her,
While the soft winds whispered loving sighs.
When I left old Algiers,
Her veil was wet with tears;
And in my dreams I trace
Scenes of the old Market place
And when I held her hand,
She made me understand,
Love that she could not speak
In old Algiers.
Caravans across the sands were moving.
Moon, like gold hung in the azure skies;
We could hear the Arabs pray to Allah,
From the Minarets we heard their cries.
Truant shadows on the bay were dancing.
I told tales, old when the world was new.
She list to the sweet words of a lover,
And I read her answer, I love you.