On a waggon bound for market
There’s a calf with a mournful eye
High above him there’s a swallow,
Winging swiftly through the sky
How the winds are laughing,
They laugh with all their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
And half the summers night
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna;
Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna;
Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
Stop complaining said the farmer,
Who told you a calf to be?
Why don’t you have wings to fly with,
Like the swallow so proud and free?
Calves are easly bound and slaughtered,
Never knowing the reason why
But whoever treasures freedom,
Like the swallow has learned to fly.
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