In the Port of Amsterdam

The Port of Amsterdam of the Jacques Brel song is nothing like the reality. He portrayed it as seedy. It isn't seedy as ports go.

I first heard the song when I saw "Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris" which I ended up seeing nine times with different people. Never then did I think I would be seeing Amsterdam, not once but many times.

For Jacques Brel lovers the song can be watched on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2kkr0e_dTQ. with English and French translations. He carries the emotion much better than the David Bowie translation below. His version can be found here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uPZIG5BHD4

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 river bank weeps

To the old willow tree

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who dies

Full of beer, full of cries

In a drunken town fight

In the port of Amsterdam

There's a sailor who's born

On a hot muggy morn

By the dawn's early light

In the port of Amsterdam

Where the sailors all meet

There's a sailor who eats

Only fish heads and tails

And he'll show you his teeth

That have rotted too soon

That can haul up the sails

That can swallow the moon

And he yells to the cook

With his arms open wide

"Hey, bring me more fish

Throw it down by my side"

And he wants so to belch

But he's too full to try

So he stands up and laughs

And he zips up his fly

In the port of Amsterdam

You can see sailors dance

Paunches bursting their pants

Grinding women to porch

They've forgotten the tune

That their whiskey voice croaked

Splitting the night

With the roar of their jokes

And they turn and they dance

And they laugh and they lust

Till the rancid sound of the accordion bursts

And then out of the night

With their pride in their pants

And the sluts 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'll drink to the health

Of the whores of Amsterdam

Who've given their bodies

To a thousand other men

Yeah, they've bargained their virtue

Their goodness all gone

For a few dirty coins

Well he just can't go on

Throws his nose to the sky

And he aims it up above

And he pisses like I cry

On the unfaithful love

In the port of Amsterdam

In the port of Amsterdam