The poem
The night before I left Milan A mob jammed the Cathedral Square, And high the tide of passion ran As politics befouled the air. A seething hell of human strife, I shrank back from its evil core, Seeing in this convulsive life The living seeds of war.
To Barcelona then I came, And oh the heavenly release! From conflict and consuming flame I knew the preciousness of peace. Such veneration for the law! How decorous was every one! And then (significant) I saw Each copper packed a tommy gun.
Well, maybe it is best that way. Peace can mean more than liberty: These people, state-directed, may Be happier than those more free. When politics wield evil grip, And warring factions rise and fall, Benevolent dictatorship May be the answer, after all.