Italian people peaceful are,--
Let it be to their credit.
They mostly fail to win a war,
--Oh they themselves have said it.
"Allergic we to lethal guns
And military might:
We love our homes and little ones,
And loath to fight.
But Teutons are a warrior race
Who seek the sword to rattle;
And in the sun they claim a place,
Even at price of battle.
The prestige of a uniform
Is sacred in their sight;
They deem that they are soldiers born
And might is right.
And so I love Italians though
Their fighting powers are petty;
My heart with sympathy doth go
To eaters of spaghetti.
And if the choice were left to me,
I know beyond a doubt
A hundred times I'd rather be
A Dago than a Kraut.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Robert William Service Poems
Analysis and Comments on The Macaronis
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Macaronis here.
Commenting has been disabled for now.