The Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows past.
Past the city where nothing is loaded anymore,
there are no more ships in front of the weigh house.
They sail on because the bollards and the quays
have made way for traffic.
And the Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows past.
As it will continue to flow by.
The water goes, what remains is the river.
And whatever other times come,
it flows by and yet always remains here.
/>The Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows past.
The Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows,
the Spaarne flows past.
/>Past the bridge, past the last houses,
past the wharves and the steam pumping station.
The Spaarne flows, but not past the locks,
it ends nameless in a side canal.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS