Lyr. Add: AMSTERDAM

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sing
About the dreams that haunt them
Away from Amsterdam.
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sleep
Stretched out like pennants
Along the dismal banks.
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who die
Full of beer and tragedy
In the first light of dawn.
But in the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors new-born
In the growing heat
of the languid seas.

In the port of amsterdam
There are sailors who eat
On bright white tablecloths,
of the shimmering fish,
And hey show you their teeth
Made to bite into fate,
To unhook the moon,
To haul up the mast ropes
And there is the smell of cod
Even to the heart of the french fries
Which their thick hands ask
To come back for more;
Then they get up laughing,
As loud as a storm;
They close up their fly
And go out belching.

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who dance
Rubbing their bellies
Against the bellies of women,
And they turn and they dance
Like spitting suns
In the rending sounds
Of a rancid accordion.
They twist up their necks
To hear themselves laugh
Until all of a sudden
The accordion gives out
Then with a grave gesture
And with a proud glance,
They bring out their *"Dutchman" (batave)
Into the bright light...

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who drink
And drink and drink again
And then drink again.
They drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam,
Of Hamburg and other places,
In short they drink to the women
Who give them their pretty bodies
Who give them their virtue
For a piece of gold
And when they have drunk enough,
They stand, their noses to the sky,
They blow their noses to the stars
And they piss as I cry
Over the unfaithful women
In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam

Mostly the translation of Marie de Grazia. *used by de Grazia. Brel
This also owes to the partial translation by Wolfgang.