Amsterdam

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Amsterdam

(Jacques Brel/engl. D. Kaiser © 2004,

Singer in the Chanson-Duo Paul & Didier)


In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who sing

of the dreams that haunt them

far away from Amsterdam.

In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who sleep

like pennants stretched out

along the mournful shore.


In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who die

full of beer with a cry

at the first light of dawn.

In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors being born

in the thick, heavy breeze

in languorous seas.


In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who eat

on white cloths from a dish

many shimmering fish.

Then they show you their teeth

that they bite their fate with,

that unhook the half-moon,

that crunch the ropes of the boat.

There is a smell of cod

till to the heart of the chips

of which their hands invite

more to come for another fight.

Then they get up with a shout,

they holler like a storm,

and they close up their fly

and with a belch they walk out.


In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who dance

while rubbing their belly

on the bellies of madams.

And they turn and they dance,

like the sun turns in a stance

in the sound torn and worn

of a rancid accordion.

They twist up their fat necks

to better hear themselves laugh

until all of a sudden

the accordion wrecks.

Then with a grave gesture,

with a glance full of pride,

they drag out their body

into the full bright light.


In the port of Amsterdam

there are sailors who drink

and drink and drink once more

and drink out to the score.

They drink to the health

of the whores of Amsterdam

of Hamburg and other ports,

they toast to the madams,

who bargain their bodies/resorts,

just for a coin of gold,

whose virtue is years old.

And when they are filled up,

their nose points to the sky,

they wipe it to the stars,

and they piss like I cry

over untrue girls, God dam.

In the port of Amsterdam,

in the port of Amsterdam.

Kategorie: Jacques_Brel