The moon is combing its hair

In the mirrors of the river

And a bull is watching her

hidden among the rockrose

When the joyous morning comes

And the moon escapes from the river

The little bull goes into the water

Charging to see that he is gone

That bull in love with the moon

Who abandons the manna at night

It is painted poppy and olive

And the mayor gave him a bell ringer

The rowers of the mountains

They kiss his forehead

The stars of the heavens

They shower him with silver

And the little bull that is brave

Of brave breed

Colored fans

They look like their legs

That bull in love with the moon

Who abandons the manna at night

It is painted poppy and olive

And the mayor gave him a bell ringer

The rowers of the mountains

They kiss his forehead

The stars of the heavens

They shower him with silver

And the little bull that is brave

Of brave breed

Colored fans

They look like their legs

That flirtatious moon... with the bull