In fields of green, the cows do roam,
Their gentle eyes and coats of foam.
They munch on grass and chew their cud,
Underneath the sun's warm flood.
With swishing tails and soft, low moos,
They wander free, no time to lose.
Their milk, so white, like morning dew,
Brings joy to many, old and new.
They graze all day, in peace they dwell,
Their rhythm, like a soothing bell.
In pastures wide, they find their way,
Bringing calm to each passing day.
So let us honor these gentle beasts,
In valleys deep, on mountain crests.
For in their presence, we find grace,
The humble cow, in every place.
