House, palace, hut, pigsty. Look, the unbearable spoilt brat falls down from her haughtiness stage to far below. Rotten to the root, the unfruitful fig tree has never budded and never brought any benefit. Therefore nothing in this nation can prosper at this stage.

The end-time clock gives twelve dull strokes for the last time and the salt pillar was once again the wife of Abraham’s brother by the name of Lot. Therefore, in the last pruning season, all the wild shoots will fall down below without any use.

House, palace, hut, pigsty, the fool stays an idiot forever and always. So, cursed is the haughty snob. Look, the dice rolls and the lot falls on double by. A volk is rotten and nobody can stop the big poverty anymore.

House, palace, hut, pigsty; the fool’s own haughtiness was her god and therefore Hunger now becomes her scanty cook. Oh the stupid fool thought she was just the fashion doll. But with no brain in the head, she is soon kicked out through the back door.

House, palace, hut, pigsty; in a narrowing circle the eternally stupid moth flies around the alluring flame. Haughtiness mocked and teased and reason reacted with nasty resentment and so the troublesome fly falls dead into the boiling soup.

So, house, palace, hut, pigsty; from a fancy farm to a pitiful hovel. Yes, the dice rolls and the last lot falls so cruelly.