The cow the cow, which insane this cow,
The cow it is barjot.
Me, I know a cow which picks up all the bulls ((a))
In the center of the arena, one awaits it, it brings oneself, it is made feinter.
The feet in the beret, with the swan dive, it is made jump.
By the trainer, it is drawn, the made rope-maker what plait to him.
When the public calls it, one plays Cazérienne, it is very agitated.
The announcer in the microcomputer, Braille inside like a calf, it knows it.
It prefers the cowherd, that which gives him to eat.
It re-examines the day in a small enclosure where it was born,
With the ganaderia, under a pignada, in Chalossais.
The owner wondered whether one day it would go.
It corrodes its brake, it goes towards its destiny, it waits its day.
The bullfighter knows it, it can operate it, between them, it is the love.
By making some efforts, it will have the gold horn.