Paris Girls’ Ballad

You may have heard the rousing gabble
of Venice chicks, and Florence hens:
the older ones sound capable,
arch-gossips, of being poison-pens –
but Lombard skirts or Savoyans,
Piedmontese – however dressed,
the Swiss types or the Roman ones,
the Paris girls can prattle best.

For highly educated babble
among the Neapolitans
there are special Chairs available;
and the frauleins, too, show off their brains –
but take the Greeks, Hungarians,
Egyptians, any of the rest,
Aragonese, Castilians,
the Paris girls can prattle best.

The Breton girls are simply unable
to open their mouths, and those Gascons –
two from the Petit Pont fishwife rabble
would finish them off – and Calaisians,
Toulousians and Picardians
(whoever you like can take the test),
are like the English, “also-rans”.
The Paris girls can prattle best.

Prince to the eloquent Parisians
the prize goes, as perhaps you’ve guessed –
for say what you like of Italians,
the Paris girls can prattle best!

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