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 summer’s 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 easily bound and slaughtered, never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom like the swallow has learned to fly.