Hello! Here in Smolensk butcher shop, we excite by read local egghead Student Arkady reworking of John of Gaunt speech for Shakespeare birthday celebration and St George’s Day.
John of Gaunt:
Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus expiring do foretell of them:
The public schoolboys will alas persist,
While violent Dorries soon burns out herself.
Cold showers prescribed her frustrate storms extreme:
Dave mocks betimes when speaks too fast betimes.
And eagerly the fool would choke her Leader:
Light vanity! Backbencher’s silly rant
Consumes her wits, and preys upon herself.
This newfound state of things, distemper’d isle,
This earth of Cameron, this seat of Clegg,
This Coalition’s gerrymander’d wiles,
This fortress built by Eton for herself
Against infection at the hands of chavs,
This Cabinet of men, with women few,
This Witney clique, set in a common sea,
Which serves it loyal in bloody broil abroad,
Or, welfare capp’d, evict is from its house,
To look with envy on financiers’ pay;
This fiscal shock, this dearth, this hell, this England,
This hearse for social contracts across class
Scorned by high breeds made arrogant by birth
Who ride on Brooks’ Met steeds from Oxford homes,
While Gideon doles out gold for City sprees,
But makes his sepulchres from industry,
No more world’s workshop, but now Vince’s grave;
This land of rising costs, this dear dear land,
Dear for her central heating and her food,
Is now sourced out, I die pronouncing it,
Sold to a sovereign wealth fund in Beijing;
With Lib Dems bound now to reaction’ries,
While Blairite bores do taunt sad Ed’s poor show
‘Gainst slippery fortune, ‘tis now alone the stage
Of milk-shy toffs and posh boys sans remorse:
That England, that was wont to raise up paupers,
Now makes a shameful bow again to wealth.
Ah, would I could afford with them to dine,
I’d give the Quad a kick up their behinds!