A Pict Song - Rudyard Kipling

Some typical Pictish Warriors. I wish.

A Pict Song

Rome never looks where she treads.
Always her heavy hooves fall,
On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads;
And Rome never heeds when we bawl.
Her sentries pass on—that is all,
And we gather behind them in hordes,
And plot to reconquer the Wall,
With only our tongues for our swords.
We are the Little Folk—we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you’ll see
How we can drag down the State!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

Mistletoe killing an oak—
Rats gnawing cables in two—
Moths making holes in a cloak—
How they must love what they do!
Yes—and we Little Folk too,
We are busy as they—
Working our works out of view—
Watch, and you’ll see it some day!

No indeed! We are not strong,
But we know Peoples that are.
Yes, and we’ll guide them along,
To smash and destroy you in War!
We shall be slaves just the same?
Yes, we have always been slaves,
But you—you will die of the shame,
And then we shall dance on your graves!

We are the Little Folk—we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you’ll see
How we can drag down the State!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

I quite liked the last verse. Anyhow, enough poetry. Let us give a Roman a chance with this interesting quote by Gaius Petronius Arbiter (although some doubt it was his work.)

"We trained hard - but it seemed that every time we began to form up into teams, we would be reorganized. I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situation by reorganizing - and a wonderful method it can be for creating the illusion of progress while producing confusion, inefficiency, and demoralization."

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