Deeply in the Sahara
on a Dromedara
a German researcher rode by the Dattelhain.
There the Mumienkeiler
saw a girl named Laila;
Magic excitation drives into in the Gebein.
He called: "say ' to me, who are you, which trunken me make?
Come and heals my wounds!"
She spoke: "I am Laila, the queen of the night!"
Simsalabim! it had disappeared!
Like a Fata Morgana,
so near and nevertheless as far,
as a Fata Morgana.
Abarakadabara!
And no longer there it was!
It follows the singing,
where the datteln hang,
the deceit picture named Laila and did not see not the danger.
An old Beduine
sat on a dune,
bit into the Zechine and spoke: "Inschallah!
Oh Effendi, one calls me Hadschi Halef Ibrahim.
Free you from its charm, otherwise are you death!" the Muezzin called,
and away was the old Dattelklauber.
Like a Fata Morgana,
so near and nevertheless as far,
as a Fata Morgana.
Abarakadabara!
And no longer there it was!
It crept the Effendi
more dead already than lebendi
under hot sun by the desert sand.
"With the beard of the prophet,
now I must transfers!"
He spoke and raised again his hand,
and he saw the Fata Morgana on the horizon,
drauf died he in the country of the Arabs.
The vultures over it, which kraechzten: "Inschallah!
Finally again a Kadaver!"
Like a Fata Morgana,
so near and nevertheless as far,
as a Fata Morgana.
Abarakadabara!
And no longer there it was!
Like a Fata Morgana,
so near and nevertheless as far,
as a Fata Morgana.
Abarakidabari!
And ford was it!