This is a 1994 folk song from the Southwestern French singer-songwriter Francis Cabrel.
This version is sung with Olivia Ruiz, a French pop singer from Carcassonne. Her Grandmother was Spanish and immigrated to France as she fled the Nationalists.
As an animal lover and fierce opponent of bullfighting, Francis Cabrel wrote this really powerful song, recounting the story and thoughts from the bull’s point of view and placing the listener in the bull’s shoes. Questioning our society, finding entertainment in watching misery and death
The song begins with the bull waiting in the dark and hearing the cries of the crowd before he is thrust into the arena. The bull, confused, gradually realises his situation is hopeless.
“Dans cette chambre noire (In this dark room)
J’entends qu’on s’amuse et qu’on chante (I can hear the laughter and chants)
Au bout du couloir” (At the end of the tunnel)
“Dans les premiers moments j’ai cru (In the first instance, I believed)
Qu’il fallait seulement se défendre (That I only had to fend for myself)
Mais cette place est sans issue (But there is no exit)
Je commence à comprendre” (I am starting to get it)
The bull does have some fight in him, as he finds the situation pathetic
“Je vais bien finir par l’avoir (I may get her)
Cette danseuse ridicule” (That pathetic ballerina)
“Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?” (Is this world for real?)
“Je vais pas trembler devant (I will not shake for)
Ce pantin, ce minus” (This puppet, this pathetic man)
“Ce soir la femme du torero (Tonight the wife of the torero)
Dormira sur ses deux oreilles” (Will sleep on both ears)
But again, realises the situation is hopeless and surreal:
“Ils ont frappé fort dans mon cou (The hit hard on my neck)
Pour que je m’incline (for me to fold)
Ils sortent d’où ces acrobates (Where do those acrobats come from)
Avec leurs costumes de papier? (With their flimsy costumes)
Je n’ai jamais appris à me battre (I never learnt to fight)
Contre des poupées” (against puppets)
As the bull is dying, he reflects on the lack of compassion for the underdog:
“Je les entends rire comme je râle (I hear their laughter as I gurgle)
Je les vois danser comme je succombe (I see them dance as I am succumbing)
Je pensais pas qu’on puisse autant (I never thought one could)
S’amuser autour d’une tombe” (have so much fun around a grave)
The last part is in Spanish; the more poignant line is “Another bull, another life”
The song also draws parallels with a lack of democracy in our world. By giving a voice to the bull, which is traditionally considered a voiceless and powerless victim in the spectacle.
One of the repeating sentences, “Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?” (Is this world for real?)
The bull (the underdog) faces his imminent and inevitable death in the arena, whilst the cruel spectators enjoy the show and praise the power of the matador. It describes the bull’s thoughts to describe its pain, fear or rebellion, fear of violence, observations on power imbalance and lack of compassion from those siding with the one in power.
It can also be seen as a song against racism and the rise of the far right.
Depuis le temps que je patiente
Dans cette chambre noire
J’entends qu’on s’amuse
et qu’on chante
Au bout du couloir
Quelqu’un a touché le verrou
Et j’ai plongé vers le grand jour
J’ai vu les fanfares, les barrières
Et les gens autour
Dans les premiers moments
J’ai cru qu’il fallait seulement
se défendre
Mais cette place est sans issue
Je commence à comprendre
Ils ont refermé derrière moi
Ils ont eu peur
que je recule
Je vais bien finir par l’avoir
Cette danseuse ridicule
Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?
Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?
Andalousie, je me souviens
Les prairies bordées de cactus
Je vais pas trembler devant
Ce pantin,
ce minus
Je vais l’attraper,
lui et son chapeau
Les faire tourner comme un soleil
Ce soir la femme du torero
Dormira sur ses deux oreilles
Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux
J’en ai poursuivi des fantômes
Presque touché leurs
ballerines
Ils ont frappé fort dans mon cou
Pour que je m’incline
Ils sortent d’où ces acrobates
Avec leurs costumes de papier?
J’ai jamais appris à me battre
Contre des poupées
Sentir le sable sous ma tête
C’est fou comme
ça peut faire du bien
J’ai prié pour
que tout s’arrête
Andalousie, je me souviens
Je les entends rire comme je râle
Je les vois danser
comme je succombe
Je pensais pas qu’on puisse autant
S’amuser autour d’une tombe
Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?Est-ce que ce monde est sérieux?
Si, si hombre, hombre
Baila, baila
Hay que bailar de nuevo
Y mataremos otros
Venga Venga
(bailar de nuevo)
Y mataremos otros
Venga venga, baila (repeat)
Y mataremos otros
Y mataremos otros
Venga venga
Venga, bailar de neuvo
Y mataremos otos
Otras vidas, y otros toros
Y mataremos otros
Y mataremos otros
For as long as I have been waiting
in this dark room,
I hear them having fun
and singing
At the end of the corridor.
Someone opened the lock
and I dived into the bright light
I saw the fanfares, the fences
and the people around.
In the first moments,
I thought I only had to
fend for myself.
But there are no exits
I am starting to understand.
They locked the gate behind me.
They were afraid
I would back down.
I’ll end up getting it
This ludicrous ballerina.
Is this world for real?
Is this world for real?
Andalusia, I remember
The fields lined with cacti.
I’m not going to tremble
in front of this puppet,
This pathetic man.
I’ll catch him
him and his hat,
Make him spin like a sun.
Tonight, the wife of the Torero
Will sleep on her two ears.
Is this world for real?
Is this world for real?
I chased some ghosts,
almost touched their
ballerina shoes.
They hit hard on my neck
so that I bow down.
Where are these acrobats coming from
with their flimsy costumes.
I never learned to fight
against puppets.
Feeling the sand under my head,
It’s mad how
good it can feel,
I prayed that
everything would stop
Andalusia, I reminisce.
I hear them laughing as I gurggle.
I see them dancing
as I succumb.
I never thought one could
have so much fun around a grave.
Is this world for real?
Is this world for real?
Yes, sir, (x2)
Dance, dance (repeat)
Yes we dance again (x2)
And we will kill others. (x2)
Come, come (repat)
(And we dance again)
We will kill others.
Come, come, dance (repeat)
We will kill others.
We will kill others.
Come, come
Come, we dance again,
and we will kill others.
Other lives, other bulls,
And we kill again
And we kill again
Between the French lyrics 
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