Give meat to the dogs when they bicker:
Perhaps they will fall on each other.
Give unto drunkards liquor:
I trust they will toast one another.

In fields, where the blackbird hovers,
Put scarecrows up in great number,
And to enfranchise lovers,
Give them a corner to slumber.

Plant orchards to be self-reliant,
Against the day that you need 'em.
Damnit, I will be compliant,
But give unto me my freedom!

The dogs are given to dine,
But they refuse to contest it,
The lushes are offered good wine,
But don't deign even to taste it.

People chase birds of black feather,
But the crows look on unafraid,
Lovers are brought together,
But they want their matches unmade.

Though we water the orchards and weed 'em,
Remains barren the bough,
And they gave me back my freedom,
But what will I do with it now?