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1607, Pierre de Fermat’s born in France,

A quiet mind of brilliance, given one great chance.

Pierre de Fermat, a lawyer by the day,

But late at night with numbers, he’d always slip away.

1630, career begins to rise,

Pierre de Fermat studies law, but math was in his eyes.

1636, his letters start to fly,

To Mersenne and Descartes—ideas reaching the sky.

Oh Pierre de Fermat, your name forever rings,

Your margin note in 1660s still makes the whole world sing.

“You’ll never see my proof,” the line you boldly wrote—

For centuries we chased the meaning of your note.

1640, little theorem comes alive,

Pierre de Fermat shows how prime numbers thrive.

1654, with Pascal you paved the way—

Probability was born from the games you’d play.

Oh Pierre de Fermat, your brilliance never ends,

Your timeline writes the story the future comprehends.

From 1607 to 1665, your legacy stayed strong—

Pierre de Fermat, your numbers still live on.