The dogs of Catalonia wag their tails at me. Let's do it without irony,

The dogs of Catalonia wag their tails at me. Let's do it without irony, people come at them with a question: Did you decide to leave home Or did you just bark a while? Freedom, coming in on a tangent, Will make you live all over again, And maybe even half-starved! Like a wound-up spring Year after year, wolf-fashion With no old master To whine for recognition To tear thoughts of the future to shreds. And a clever look quietly asks Not to get worked up over nothing, Not to burn the bridges, To stroke the withers, To tug an ear with affection. And to go on living together. But the right to a voice And a freedom-loving temper Are not to be beaten out with batons, But recognised and respected.