If you set out on this world, better be prepared,

You'll be born seven times, once in a house on fire,

Once in a freezing flood, once in a wild mad house,

Once in a field of ripe wheat, once in an empty cloister,

Once among pigs in a stye, six babies crying not enough,

He yourself must be the seventh.

If you must fight to survive, let your enemy see seven,

One away from his work on Sunday, another starting his work on Monday,

One who teaches without payment, one who learned to swim by drowning,

One who is a seed of a forest, one whom wild forefathers protect,

But all their tricks are not enough, you yourself must be the seventh.

If you want to find a woman, let seven men go for her,

One who gives his heart for words, one who takes care of himself,

One who claims to be a dreamer, one who through her skirts can feel her,

One who knows her hooks and snaps, one who steps upon her scarf,

Let them buzz like flies around her, you yourself must be the seventh.

If you write and can afford it, let seven men write your poem,

One who builds a marble village, one who was born in a sleep,

One who charts the sky and knows it, one whom words call by his name,

One who perfected his soul, one who dissects living rats,

Two are brave, four are wise, you yourself must be the seventh.

And if all went as was written, you will die for seven men,

One who is rocked and suckled, one who grabs a hard young breast,

One who throws down empty dishes, one who helps the poor to win,

One who works till he goes to pieces, one who just stares at the moon,

The world will be your tombstone, you yourself must be the seventh.