THE STRIFE OF TONGUES
(Lines suggested by the recent demise of the inventor of Esperanto.)
As a patriotic Briton
I am naturally smitten
With disgust
When some universal lingo
By a zealous anti-Jingo
Is discussed.
Some there are who hold that Spanish
In the end is bound to banish
Other tongues;
Some again regard Slavonic
As a stimulating tonic
For the lungs.
I would sooner bank on Tuscan,
Ay, or even on Etruscan,
Than on Erse;
But fanatical campaigners,
Gaelic Leaguers and Sinn Feiners
Find it terse.
Some are moved to have a shy at
Persian, thanks to the Rubáiyát
And its ease;
But it’s quite another matter
If you’re anxious for to chatter
In Chinese.
To instruct a brainy brat in
Canine or colloquial Latin
May be wise;
But it’s not an education
As a fruitful speculation
I’d advise.
French? All elegance equips it,
But how oft on foreign lips it
Runs awry;
German, tainted, execrated,
Is for ages relegated
To the sty.
As for brand-new tongues invented
By professors discontented
With the old,
Well, the prospect of a “panto”
Played and sung in Esperanto
Leaves me cold.