Pobre Del Pobre

You're going to get married still loving me
I didn't have money to buy you
Your happiness
You're going to get married, may you be very happy
I wish that joy be the reward
For your falsehood

What does my love matter
If in the end I am poor
I know that money covers the desires
Of your heart
I never cried for any love
But your cruel ways
Have reached
Deep into my soul

Poor of the poor
Who lives dreaming of a heaven
Poor of the poor
Who cries without solace
But you're going to get married
I hold no grudge
I know that money
Covers the desires of your heart
Just one favor
I come to implore
That on your wedding day
You let me sing the Ave Maria

Just one favor I come to implore
That on your wedding day
You let me sing the Ave Maria