In my life Ive seen so many cows
I must write for them a poem of praise
Cows lounging, strewn about the meadows
Cows endlessly musing as they graze

If I should call a woman cow-eyed
Shed consider it an insult, take offense
Yet the eyes of cows with melancholy gaze
Oh how beautiful those eyes and so immense

Returning from the pastures in the evening
So different from what other animals do
No jostling, no hubbub, no bells clanging
Just now and then perhaps a deep moo

They are a sign of great seriousness
That some things endure changelessly
Let this poem be a gift to cows
To their guarantee of stability