Abdul Abulbul Amir

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Abdul Abulbul Amir is a comic song written in 1877 by William Percy French for a smoking concert, while he was studying at Trinity College Dublin. See the Wikipedia articles for more detail.


Other tunes in this series can be found listed on the Toots of the Whistle page of the Guide.


This abc-rendition is transposed for the pennywhistle, tuned to the key of D. Copy and paste the abc-code, shown below, into your own text file and then process the file using the abc-tool of your choice. Free abc utilities are available that will convert the code to a MIDI file, to Adobe PostScript, and to Adobe Portable Document Format (PDF) suitable for printing the sheet music. As an alternative, it is possible to read the abc-code direct and play it on your favourite instrument.


X:A11995905

T:Abdul Abulbul Amir

T:--h2g2 article A11995905--

L:1/8

S:Comic Song, 1877

C:Percy French 1854-1920

N:pennywhistle, tinwhistle, tin, penny, whistle

N:flageolet, fipple, flute, feadog

Z:Transposed 20060520 by H2G2 U107221 for the pennywhistle keyed in D.

F:Abdul-Abulbul-Amir-H2G2-A

M:3/8

Q:1/4=120

K:D

"^Pennywhistle in D"

F/2-F/2 | F E ^D | E F G | B A F | A2 A | d d d |

w:The - sons of the Proph-et are brave men and bold, And quite un-ac-

e d B | A3- | A2 F/2F/2 | F E D | E F G |

w:cus-tomed to fear,--But the brav-est by far in the

B A F | A2 D | F F F | G F E | D3- | D2 |]

w:ranks of the Shah, Was Ab-dul A-bul-bul A-mir.- -

W:

W:If you wanted a man to encourage the van

W:\ \ \ \ \ Or harrass the foe from the rear,

W:Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout

W:\ \ \ \ \ For Abdul Abulbul Amir.

W:

W:Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame

W:\ \ \ \ \ In the troops that were led by the Czar,

W:And the bravest of these was a man by the name

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

W:

W:He could jump fifty yards and tell fortunes at cards

W:\ \ \ \ \ And strum on the Spanish guitar,

W:In fact quite the cream of this Muscovite team

W:\ \ \ \ \ Was Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

W:

W:One day this bold Russion, he shouldered his gun

W:\ \ \ \ \ And donned his most truculent sneer,

W:Downtown he did go where he trod on the toe

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.

W:

W:‘Young man,’ quoth Abdul, ‘has life grown so dull

W:\ \ \ \ \ That you wish to end your career?

W:Vile infidel, know, you have trod on the toe

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Abdul Abulbul Amir!’

W:

W:‘So take your last look at sunshine and brook

W:\ \ \ \ \ And send your regrets to the Czar—

W:For by this I imply, you are going to die,

W:Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar!’

W:

W:Then this bold Mareluke drew his trusty skibouk,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Singing ‘Allah! Il Allah! Al-lah!’

W:And with murderous intent he ferociously went,

W:\ \ \ \ \ For Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

W:

W:They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of blood they spilled a great part;

W:The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Say that hash was first made on that spot.

W:

W:They fought all that night ’neath the pale yellow moon;

W:\ \ \ \ \ The din, it was heard from afar,

W:And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar.

W:

W:As Abdul’s long knife was extracting the life,

W:\ \ \ \ \ In fact he was shouting ‘Huzzah!’

W:He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

W:

W:The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Expecting the victor to cheer,

W:But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.

W:

W:There’s a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls,

W:\ \ \ \ \ And ’graved there in characters clear,

W:Is ‘Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.’

W:

W:A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night

W:\ \ \ \ \ Caused ripples to spread wide and far,

W:It was made by a sack fitting close to the back

W:\ \ \ \ \ Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

W:

W:A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps

W:\ \ \ \ \ ’Neath the light of the cold northern star,

W:And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps,

W:\ \ \ \ \ Is ‘Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.’

 

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