There were women holding rosaries
On the day Manolete died
Teenage girls in soft white dresses
Standing silent, peace respecting
Groups of boys held in their hands
The fragments of a shattered idol
The old men with their traditions challenged
Refrained from tears
Neck, neck hook, poles of wood
The picadors stood eyes ablaze
To view the brutal contest
In the vale of years
Courage unfailing
Agility exhausted
Youth entered challenge
Reached for title shelved
Patrons in attendance
To disarm a common myth
Homage payed to the victor of immortality
Is cloaked in bold tones
And in the stockyards
The beasts did climb their barriers
Bid by a frenzied ring
Bred for one purpose only
To die in man's sport
Dash against his spindle
There were women holding rosaries
On the day Manolete died
Teenage girls in soft white dresses
Standing silent, peace respecting
Groups of boys held in their hands
Fragments of a shattered idol
The old men with their traditions challenged
Refrained from tears
On the day
On the day Manolete died
On the day
An instant fell to wounding
On the day
Swords penetrating
On the day
Torches igniting
On the day
Flower wreaths encircling the day
On the day
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