La menthe à l'eau [English translation]

When the Mary I loved

was coming in simpering

in my nest, in the month of May,

I never had a toothache.

From all Mary emanated

the beautiful, the sweet, the cute,

but in my small change

There was not the word million.

Mary was not a house wife

she liked my wig (chest hair)

my mimicry, my marinière,

and my mammoth ways

Friends of my beloved

were amusing me, but let's go

starched clothes,

they gave in a phoney way.

But Mary, my muse, my queen,

was not really my sweetheart,

the muse and the lover barely

if I can express myself that way.

It's decided, tomorrow,

I have amazing ideas,

I will ask the hand

of Mary, if it enchants her.

If I liked his raffle,

if it ever falls into the water, (Doesn't work)

my lover will become,

Well see, the lover to the water.