Jacques Brel Song Quotes and Instagram Captions

These Jacques Brel quotes from songs resonate with raw honesty and offer timeless perspectives on love, life, and the human spirit.

Jacques Brel Love Quotes from Songs

Don’t leave me.
We must forget these hours.
I will offer you pearls of rain.
Coming from countries where it doesn’t rain.
I will dig the earth until after I die to cover your body gold and light.
I will make a domain where love will be king, where love will be law, where you will be queen.
I will invent you foolish words that you will understand.
I will talk to you of these lovers who have seen twice their hearts are set ablaze.
And when evening comes, so that a sky blazes red and black, don’t they marry?
I won’t cry anymore.
I’m not going to speak anymore.
Let me become the shadow of your shadow, the shadow of your hand, the shadow of your dog.
My sweet, my tender, my marvelous love, from the clear dawn until the end of the day, I still love you, you know.
You have kept me from traps in traps.
It’s always the tender war.

Everything can be forgotten.
Who is already running away.
Misunderstandings and the time wasted.
To know how with why.
That we thought was too old.
He is, it seems, scorched lands giving more wheat than a better April.
We have often seen bring back the fire from the ancient volcano.
Let me become.
Every piece of furniture remembers in this room without a cradle the bursts of old storms.
Nothing resembled anything anymore.
You had lost the taste for water, and I the taste for conquest.
It took us a lot of talent to be old without being adults.
And the more time escorts us, the more time torments us.
But isn’t it the worst trap to live in peace for lovers?
Of course you cry a little less early, I tear myself apart a little later.
We trust the stream of water less.
In the port of Amsterdam, there are sailors who sing the dreams that haunt them off Amsterdam.
They show you teeth to crunch fortune, to unhook the moon, to eat hawsers.
They drink to the health of the whores of Amsterdam, Hamburg or elsewhere.
And when they have drunk well, they plant their noses in the sky, blow their noses in the stars.
The journey is over.
With the North Sea as the last wasteland.
With cathedrals as the only mountains.
And black bell towers like maypoles.
With a sky so low that it makes humility.
The bourgeois are like pigs, the older they get the stupider they become.
You pollute Flanders, but Flanders judges you.
Stop bothering me with your Flemish art.
Of course, we had storms.
The body must exult.