port of Amsterdam

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sing
Of the dreams that haunt them
Off of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sleep
Like the banners
The hills along the banks
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who die
Full of beer and stories
At the first light
But in the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who are born
In the thick heat
Of broiling oceans

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who eat
On the too-white tablecloths
The dripping fish
They show us their teeth
That crunch on their fortune
That decrease the moon
That are famished
And that smell like cod
Until the container of fries
Invites their fat hands
To come back for more
And they lift them in laughter
With noise like a storm
Closing their flies
And they leave belching

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who dance
While rubbing their bellies
On the bellies of girls
And they turn and they dance
Like spitting suns
In the tearing sound
Of a dreadful accordion
They twist their backs
To better hear the laughter
Until suddenly
The accordion breaks
Now, serious action
Now, a proud look
They bring back their dutchwomen
Until full light - J. Brel