Huapango Torero

Bull, bull, bull...
While the heifers, hey!
in the bullring, unique and nothing else,
nothing else for the bullfighters.

Outside the ring,
made of stones indeed;
a boy sits crying,
sitting silently crying.

With his small cape
he wipes away his bullfighter tears,
with his small cape
he wipes away his bullfighter tears.

The night falls silently,
the moon hangs far away;
the stars begin to settle
in the sky.

And heading towards the pens,
the determined boy is seen,
he wants to fight a bull,
putting his life at stake.

Silence...
the foremen are sleeping,
the bulls, the bulls in the pens
are restless.

A cape in hand,
under the moonlight he wants to fight.
Silence...

Suddenly the beautiful night
has seen something and is crying;
doves, white doves
coming from the sky, descending.

Lie, they are handkerchiefs,
white handkerchiefs full of tears,
falling like white frost
over the boy who has agonized.

Bull, killer bull,
may the devil take you.
Bull, killer bull,
may the devil take you.
Silence...
The foremen are crying