Sailors were singing me a song about an island
Where a blue tulip grows.
It's distinguished by its large size,
It's a huge and evil leviathan.
And I was drinking my bitter beer,
Smiling in the depths of my soul.
It is so rare to hear such a beautiful song
In our faraway land.
The guitar with its simple chords,
Flowing into the spaces between the words,
Inadvertently reminded me
That music is like love,
That music is like love!
And I was drinking my bitter beer,
Smiling in the depths of my soul.
It is so rare to hear such a beautiful song
In our faraway land.
There were laughing faces all around me.
The guitar sailed away.
The sailors started a song about a bird
Who pities unfortunate men.
Its feathers are made of glass,
And its servant is a hoary parrot.
It opens the doors
To sailors entering heaven.
It is so difficult in this world
To live on songs alone.
I no longer want to be a poet.
I want to sail unto the sea.