Original Title: "La marche nuptiale"
Marriage for love, marriage for money
I have seen all kind of people getting married
People of low source, and men in high places
Supposed hairdresser, so-called notaries
Even though I would live up to the end of times
I'd always keep the happy memory
Of the day of poor wedding
when my father and my mother
Went to marry in front of Mr the Mayor
It's in a ox cart if one has to speak frankly
Pulled by the friends, Pushed by the parents,
That the old lovers made their nuptials
After a long time of love, a long time of betrothal
Nuptial procession outside of the ordinary order
The crowd look covetously us with a protuberant eye
We were contemplated by the futile world,
Which had never seen a wedding of that kind.
Here comes the wind which blows, taking away, heartbreak,
My father's hat and the altar boys
Here comes the rain which falls while well weighing its drops
As if to prevent the wedding at all cost
I will never forget the bride in tears
Rocking, like a doll, her big flower bouquet...
Me, to console her, me, with all my haughtiness,
On my harmonica, playing the great organs.
All the boys of honour, showing their fist to the sky
Were shouting, by Jupiter, the wedding goes on
By the disparaged men, by the annoyed gods
The wedding goes on and long live the bride