Mat—Mat- Matadores`
Question is: what you do that fore`
I don’t know very much more`
Mat—Mat- Matadores`
The raging bull snorts black sweat
Too slow to dance and you’ll regret
But you know he’ll tickle your ribs
Horns dismantle your best ad-libs
The flowers rain, some are rose
Blend the valor in your clothes
Dare to prance with stems ‘tween teeth
It merely goads the bull to seethe
Matadores` what’s your story?
You run to shun the beasts feared gore`
Pallid face, akin bleached white
Exit arena, then, from sight
The crowds stand, applause you fore`
Stilted run to your amore`
She greets the coward of fleet feet
To oust you ambling down the street
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I would like to translate this poem