Use the Forks, Henry

Farewell, o Poland! Adieu, lifeless plain, Where frost, ice and snows forever obtain. Your climes, your customs made my stomach churn; Goodbye, I’m leaving – never to return! […] Barbaric people, arrogant and vain, Believing yourselves to match Mars in fame, All day and night you sit around and drink, Snore at the table and beneath it sink.

— Philippe Desportes: Adieu à la Pologne, in: ?, own translation Original text: Adieu, Pologne, adieu, plaines désertes, Toujours de neige et de glace couvertes, Adieu, pays d’un éternel adieu : Ton air, tes mœurs m’ont si fort su déplaire, Qu’il faudra bien que tout me soit contraire, Si jamais plus je retourne en ce lieu. […] Barbare peuple, arrogant et volage Vanteur, causeur n’ayant rien que langage, Qui, jour et nuit, dans un poisle enfermé, Pour tout plaisir se joue avec un verre, Ronfle à la table ou s’endort sur la terre, Puis comme un Mars veut être renommé. […]

Stop, o Frenchmen! Hold your horses! What’s the reason for your flight? Only tyrants run from Poland like a dog annoyed by flies. […] We applauded your arrival, played the gittern and drank wine, Did our best that you feel welcome: all you ever did was whine, Call us drunks and take our earnest hospitality for vice. You ungrateful, savage aliens! We are tired of being nice.

— Jan Kochanowski: Gallo crocitanti ἀμοιβή, in: ?, own translation Original text: State, viri, quae causa fugae? […] Sarmatia est, quam Galle fugis, fidissima tellus Hospitibus; fastus tantum impatiensque tyranni Sarmatia est, cui verba prius, nunc terga dedisti Continuasque fugam, quasi musca agitere canina. […] Atque ego, Galle, quidem fateor, neque forsitan ipse Inficias ibis, vos summo hominumque deorumque Applausu exceptos, passimque agitata per urbes Adventu vestro convivia, nec puduisse Sauromatam pictis redimitum tempora sertis Ad citharam saltare rudem, Bacchoque madere, Quippe ut Galle fidem faceret tibi simplicis atque Non fucati animi, quo confidentius et tu Laetum ageres convivam, epulis acceptus amicis. Tu vero ingratus fugitivus, barbarus, hospes Officium in vitium trabis et temeto conspergis Non tantum me, sed proprios etiam ebrie versus.