“Do you know when the mountain goats give birth? Do you watch when the doe bears her fawn?
Do you count the months till they bear? Do you know the time they give birth?
They crouch down and bring forth their young; their labor pains are ended.
Their young thrive and grow strong in the wilds; they leave and do not return.
“Who let the wild donkey go free? Who untied its ropes?
I gave it the wasteland as its home, the salt flats as its habitat.
It laughs at the commotion in the town; it does not hear a driver’s shout.
It ranges the hills for its pasture and searches for any green thing.