We faced one another many times in life,
And, yes, I always wore my suit of lights;
Appearance and manners are important
in the game of life,
It is what separates us from the animals.

Still I prayed before I entered the ring,
And remembered it was a living thing,
And there were never guarantees.

The name of the bull was different each time,
Small things at first,
But proportionate at the time,
My shyness,
Getting as in my classes,
Speaking before crowds,
Stating my opinion.

The stakes got higher, but I got better,
And I waved him toward me again and again,
With the red cape of my youthful enthusiasm,
Longing to hear the crowd,
Eager to bring him to his knees,
Confident I was at the top of my game.

The successes mounted as I refined my moves,
And I asked for bigger, braver bulls
And larger crowds.
I was invincible
And the bull?
Manageable, because I chose him.

But one day a bull who didn’t know the rules of the game
Entered the ring on his own,
Unsummoned, when my back was turned,
So he hadn’t been doped up beforehand,
And Vaseline had not been smeared across his eyes,
And the picadors hadn’t done the necessary bloodletting.

I turned in my shining suit of gold satin, studded
with crystals and pearls,
And my little black satin ballet slippers,
To face an unencumbered and virulent beast of mythical
proportion:
The addiction of my son.

And now, critically gored,
My once-shining suit of lights stained pink with blood,
I’ve been brought to my knees
And I stare at my red cape in horror.
Too weak to go on,
I submit my retirement from the ring,
But there is no-one to accept it.
So still they come, with all their different names,
and I face them alone.
There is no crowd.
The thrill is gone. And
victories are as improbable as they
are meaningless.

I bow my head before
the one that finally beat me.
He did indeed come without manners
As he left me fatally wounded and
did not have the decency to kill me.

Aqui toro ! Toro aqui ! Toro !
Si es tan amable

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