Vive La Difference!

Vive La Difference!

I could never learn a foreign language:

I’m far too proud of the English for that

And, as for French, in particular,

My attempts at it always fall flat.

I’m too laissez-faire, I don’t really care,

But I think I should mention, en passant,

That I’m happy to enjoy their French food,

In a café with coffee and a croissant. 

Some hors d’oeuvres would go down quite a treat,

Or the tastiest plate of Coq au Vin,

Moules mariniere and a bowl of frites:

I could eat them all, with chic and élan. 

The grand fromages of France I simply adore:

Camembert, Brie and Roquefort for a start.

The fierce Maitre D’ holds no fears for me,

Working my way through the a la carte. 

And the great wines of Burgundy and Loire,

From the Cotes Du Rhone, Provence and Bordeaux.

No sommelier’s gonna put me down,

Though far off-piste I’m willing to go. 

Entre nous, I’m probably just lazy.

I’m blasé you can easily see,

For I just won’t put in the effort:

I want it all as a fait accompli. 

Mon Dieu! I’d love to be a linguist,

But I find it tricky and hard:

So many Gallic twists and turns:

One has to be constantly en garde! 

There’s the masculine and the feminine:

From these genders I’d need to be spared.

Sacre bleu! If you don’t watch what you say,

It’s easy to end up in the merde! 

I could cause a major brouhaha,

My feckless faux pas considered crass.

The entente cordiale might be at risk,

Before I deliver the coup de grace.

There’s no obeisance in my renaissance,

I think I would lack the je ne sais quoi;

I just wouldn’t look right in a beret,

Casually smoking a Gaulois. 

My daily entrée to every new day,

Is too lazy for many to ignore:

I just can’t get myself ensemble -

I think I lack the esprit de corps. 

You see - I can’t speak a word of the French.

It’s obvious and easily seen,

So I sit and fume, with my nom de plume,

And on the debate bring down the guillotine. 

Yes - I’d best stick to ‘Allo ‘Allo,

And try and do the best that I can.

I’ll hang on to my plain old English,

And sadly say “non – je ne regrette rien”!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012