The Witches’ Chant, from «A Macbeth Song»:

One is for murder, two is for betrayal
The killer never fails.
Three is for evil, four is desire
burning in the fire.

Five, the cemetery, body cursed,
maggots wait in the earth.
Six hypocrites, seven is pride,
Another tyrant dies.

Eight is envy, avarice bares
the cross he must bear.
Nine grave and body cursed,
Tyrant in the bitter earth.

Ten is the same sad song,
pretend that you're not wrong.
Eleven is how you must deny
your life was a lie.

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El Cant de les Bruixes, de «A Macbeth Song»:

A la una, mort; a les dos, traïció —
l'assassí que mai no falla.
A les tres, malícia; a les quatre, un foc
per al desig que mai s'apaga.

A les cinc: un cos tirat al sot
on l'esperen sis cucs
— hipòcrites! Són les set: l'urc
d'un tirà ha mort.

A les vuit, enveja: l'avarícia 
que ferma a la creu.
A les nou, nou cos al clot:
un altre tirà a terra mort.

I les deu, la vella cançó
de fingir que et queda honor.
I a les onze, pensar com amagues
que sempre has viscut debades.