Across the Main river
runs a bridge made of stone.
He who wants to get there
is in for a round dance.
A carter comes around,
his cart full to the brim.
He has three plow horses
and they too dance along.
And a lad without shoes
and dressed in rags beside,
cast a glance on the bridge
and on he went to dance.
Comes a lonely gal next
over the bridge of stone.
She swiftly grabs her skirt
and like the wind she dances.
Even the king himself
descended from his throne.
No sooner on the planks
on for a minuet.
Gather round, good people,
break the bridge asunder.
There they brandished their axes
but still they danced along.
The people from around
run and rush to the place.
Now stay far from the bridge
since we dance so nice there.