On a wagon 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
summer's night. (Dona, dona) Dona,
dona, dona, dona, Dona, dona, dona,
doe. Dona, dona, dona, dona, Dona,
dona, dona, doe.
"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 easily bound and slaughtered Never
knowing the reason why. But whoever treasures
freedom, Like the swallow has learned to fly.