The Men of Seville are, they say, <br />The laziest of Spain. <br />Consummate artists in delay, <br />Allergical to strain; <br />Fr if you have a job for them, <br />And beg them to be spry, <br />They only look at you with phlegm: <br />"Mañana," they reply. <br /> <br />The Men of gay Madrid, I'm told, <br />Siesta's law revere; <br />The custom is so ages old, <br />And to tradition dear; <br />So if you want a job done soon, <br />And shyly ask them: "When?" <br />They say: "Come back this afternoon: <br />We'll hope to do it them." <br /> <br />The Men of Barcelona are <br />Such mostly little caps, <br />That when you see them from afar <br />They make you think of Japs; <br />Yet they can take life on the run, <br />Quite peppy, I'll allow, <br />For when there's something to be done, <br />They shout: "We'll do it NOW."<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spanish-men/
