West-sou'west of Ameland, there's a pool - deep, yes, deep
There they catch plaice and haddock, but no handsome girls.
High south high of Ameland, the ballast lays dry,
But below, on the ground, yes, ground, it is as wet as dung.
High is the garret, low is the floor,
Nice is the girl, but ugly is her mother.
When I came last from Surinam, from far I saw a ship;
I thought that it hung in the clouds, but it sat on a reef.
And on that reef there sat a cow, a miracle cow,
Which calved each month - she was in a plight.