El Toro

There in the fields of Corrientes
In front of a wild rodeo
A conceited pampa bull
Digs its hooves into the ground

Insulting a worker
A clearing is made next to the hill
Beginning that duel
Made of charges and hooves

And hooves that raise
The dust that goes towards the sky
When everything dissolves
Like a leap in the contest

As that afternoon dies
There remains a bloodstain
And one less pampa in the ranch