I heard you say unpleasant things
About the old woman who lives alone
In the last hut on the way to the stream
You criticize what you know not
And wronged the aged and the weak
Be careful with what you say
Believe not all the stories you hear

You say she killed all her children
And ate the rest in her womb
Their innocent blood were spilled
The story of a witch goes around
She turns into altered birds of prey
Traverses the regular nightly flights
With flakes of fire in drapes and hues

Believe not all the stories you hear
Barren she may be, but her children
She ate not, others died of innate causes
Confuse not the scary sound of the owl
To mean a woman changing into a bird
Look at the reflecting eyes in the mirror
Night dreams break into hallucinating day