I was in my bed,
Sleeping as I usually do,
I take my harp in hand,
I pluck it as I usually do.
Where do I pluck it outside?
In my friend's house,
Open, I said, my love,
Open, I said, my dear.
I have my child in my arms,
If I open; he'll awaken,
Put a fig in his hand,
And it'll resolve itself.1
I have pine doors,
If I open; the doors will creak.
Throw vinegar on the floors,
And they'll open on their own.2
The wicked old man is sleeping,
If I open; he'll awaken,
Throw old rags over him,
Sleep will conquer him.
As I say these words,
The old man awoke.
What's the matter, my wife?
I see you, and you seem upset.
With the neighbor's son,
Who brings me the bread; burnt,
I see you, my wife,
On the slippery pavement.
I see you, wicked old man,
With a hundred wood stoves,
With a hundred wood stoves,
In the stove you'll burn.
1. the problem will fix itself, things are set in motion.2. The doors will open without making any noise.