“Donc, ce sera par un clair jour d'été…”
So yes, the day will come in summer, clear:
the great accomplice to my joy, the sun,
will—above your satin and your silk—grant one
resounding beauty to your face, again, my dear.
The sky all blue like tents pitched high and late
will tremble, sumptuous, vast, a lengthy sail
above our happy foreheads, which will pale
with wanting for each other, and the wait;
and when the evening comes, the sweetened air
will play, caressing through your veils' fine lace,
and stars, so peaceful, will shift from their place
to softly smile on us, the wedded pair.