A cow with a calf in its arms
Hush, hush,
come, sleep, come!
Sleep, little one, mother rocks you,
you must grow up very quickly;
make yourself strong
ready for death!
Will you be fierce
or peace loving?
Will you be meat for a slaughterhouse
or a national martyr?
It makes no difference!
For an ox,
it's all the same.
Now off to dreams, little calf.
Hush, hush,
come, sleep, come!
Autor(es): Pere Quart, Raimon
