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?“
+ Chorus
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered, never knowing the reason why. But whoever treasures freedom, like the swallow has learned to fly.