Firmly resolved, I strain under the plow,
Digging each furrow as straight as I can.
I'm really not sure what I'm planting now,
But I'm trying my best to use the land.
I do not know when the harvest will be,
Or if anything will grow here at all.
I guess I will just have to wait and see,
And let the seeds sprout wherever they fall.
Will drought come and destroy my costly crop?
Will storms blow over the plants as they grow?
Will there be floods that no barrier can stop?
These are all things I simply do not know.
I refuse to let this soil lie in waste;
Freedom's fruit is something I long to taste.
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