Ponle su esquila de labrado estaño
y no le engañen tus collares de oro;
toma en albricias este blanco toro
que a las primeras yerbas cumple un año.

Si pides señas, tiene el vellocino
pardo, encrespado, y los ojuelos tiene
como durmiendo en regalado sueño.

Si piensas que no soy su dueño, Alcino,
suelta y verásle si a mi choza viene,
que aun tienen sal las manos de su dueño.

Put back on her the bell of well-wrought tin,
and don't deceive her with your chains of gold;
accept for all your troubles this white bull
which when spring comes will be just one year old.

If you require description, she's got fleece
that's brown and curly, and her little eyes
look like she just woke up, as there she stands.

If you think, Alsino, she's not mine,
just let her go and see her find my hut:
her owner's still got salt upon his hands.

                     (©Alix Ingber, 1995)