Do ask the bull, what makes a fight
A matador’s manhood, against a beast’s might
Fondling on dust, two souls with death
A charade, custom-made, to the latter’s last breath

Do ask the bull, what’s ‘corrida de toros’ or ‘la fiesta’
“In the arena of vain manhood, a bloody good vista
Which measures a man, against a brute’s innocence
How civilized a clan, carouses its own impotence?”

Do ask the bull, what’s ‘Tercio de Varas’
“To matador’s golden cape and picador’s iron farce
I dance to both ends, a lost soul, a paid game
His lance draws my first blood, at the cost of damn shame”

Do ask the bull, what’s ‘Tercio de Banderillas’
“I hear the crowd loud, what my own end says
One on neck, now two more on shoulders
Spears of spineless man; but the beast still smolders”

Do ask the bull, what’s ‘Tercio de Muerte’
“At the orgy of death, my soul’s last cabaret
A sword thru my heart, last manly souvenir
Splendid spurt of my blood, warmer than your fear”

Do ask the bull, who lost, who won
“In a battle of bias, a man undone
His glory washed away, in my defiant gore
His manhood lost out, to my chutzpah galore”

© 2016 Vikas Chandra