In a caravan far from Hindustan, slowly jogs a weary camelman beneath the harvest moon. Fields of cotton he used to stray, not forgotten but far away, oh, he'll be nearing soon. Wonderful tales he'll have to tell of the quaint bazaars. Glistening eyes will welcome him beneath the desert stars. Moonlight on the Ganges, my little Hindu, when I've whispered love's sweet melody, all our dreams and our schemes came true. Someday on the Ganges I'll meet you once more, and I'll kiss you and caress you. Where the waters kiss the silent shore, and I'll kiss you and caress you. Where the waters kiss the silent shore. In a caravan far from Hindustan and the beautiful shore.
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