The spectacle died for me in the late evening
At the behest of my neighbour hunched in tight packed collanades like sardines in a tin
The only ray of light, the delightful heaving two rows in front
Of a girl some thirty years my junior who wore her dress
Bright yellow silken elegance to accentuate her pretty breasts  
It was a struggle to avert my eyes as the fifth bull died
Of bundled sword thrusts, blood and slow death
To the accompanying boos of the crowd thus my attention became diverted
I let the enchanted moment pass with never a backward glance
To the Girl in the yellow dress
For they do say more or less
That such voyeurism might strike one blind
I confess to having in former glorious days
Discounted such theory as drivel and the canting of kill joys
Such that on this occasion I didst resolve
To risk one eye
That on my right side to the sweeping dip of her cleavage
Whilst that on my left i reserved to watch the dance of death in the sand
Yet I was thwarted by the inept fumbling
Of a nervous matador who had engaged the massed wrath of the total crowd
Except for the fiestral brigands who accompanied the pretty girl from the blood stained arena
It was a beautiful moment
Lost to the stench of urine wafting up from the Arena
It was enchanting loveliness destroyed by blood in the sand
Proud Jandilla blood
Spilled by Descaballo thrust
But signor said my neighbour if you must
Come to la Corrida then you have to have the stomach
For blood letting.
He smiled and winked his eye
Then nodded to the girl in the yellow dress
Of course signor it does have its advantages in this heat
He drew a long pull from his cigar and slapped me on the back
But then I see you have an eye for  beauty