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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 Picadores stood eyes ablaze To view 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 played to the victor of immortality Cloaked in bold tones In the stockyard 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 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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