Under the sweet smile of the crescent moon,
Twirling to the sound of whistling tunes,
Hair billowing in the gentle breeze that follows the blistering noon,
The sand flying as I disturb the Arabian dunes,
As I waltz, moon beams weave into my tresses and braids,
I am praised for my step by the quiet twinkle of the stars,
My prance continues till the midnight fades,
To express my soul, I don’t need notes and bars.