Down, Putin, down! Have you no shame
That in the winter of your fame,
Or Fall, presto! up you raise
Your stubborn gaze and stand ablaze?
Poor administrator, sworn to uphold
All the virtue of a brave fold—
Impartial to the hearts and minds,
So as not to stand behind ze blinds!
Parliament may be dull, but it at least
Knows when to run and when to feast;
Dictatorships live off fears of men
But you, who stand before Big Ben,
Tell me, my tovarich, by whose laws
Would you release those staunchy jaws—
And when were you made this man of arts
To stand so fine and display your parts?
Will many-gifted citizens come
Bowing to your bald rule of thumb,
Or Democracy, swear loyalty to your crown?
Be gone, have done! Down, Putin, down!
–
Kudos to the one who gets the allusion and the double metaphor from this poem’s “borrowed” form.
Perhaps, I should have said he was fucking the country – democratically speaking – with his erect penis (‘down putin down’, ‘up you raise’ ‘display your parts’ etc)
Good luck with finding Russian based sites willing to publish anything anti-Putin.
