Brel: Amsterdam

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who sings

Of the dreams that he brings

From the wide-open sea

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who sleeps

While the riverbank weeps

With the old willow tree

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who dies

Full of beer, full of lies

From a drunken down fight

And in the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who's born

On a muggy hot morn

By the dawn's early light

Dans le port d'Amsterdam

Il y a des marins qui mangent

Sur des nappes trop blanches

Des poissons ruisselants

Ils vous montrent des dents

A croquer la fortune

A décroisser la lune

A bouffer des haubans

Et ça sent la morue

Jusque dans le cœur des frites

Que leur grosse main invite

A revenir en plus

Puis se lèvent en riant

Comme un bruit de tempête

Et referment leurs braguettes

Et ils sortent en rotant

In the port of Amsterdam

There are sailors who dance

Paunches bursting their pants

Grinding woman to pot

They've forgotten the tune

That their whisky voice croaks

Splitting the night

With the roar of their jokes

And they turn and they dance

And they laugh in their lust

'Til the rancid sound

Of the accordion bursts

Then off to the night

With their pride in their pants

And the schlep that they tow

Underneath the street lamps

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who drinks

And he drinks and he drinks

And he drinks once again

He drinks to the health

Of the whores of Amsterdam

Who have promised their love

To one thousand other men

They've bargained their bodies