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