Out of town where grass grows bleaker
Stands a well in silent plight
Come the maidens draw their water
With their buckets every night
Neath the sun in brightest splendor
In the orchards days abound
And beneath the endless starlight
Boys are dancing in a round
From the steppe winds are blowing
Crackle fires on desert sands
Through the alleys girls are going
With their buckets in their hands
Where the moon grows dim and weaker
Ring the drums far out by night
Out of town where grass grows bleaker
Stands a well in silent plight