Doctor Aibolit, Version 2. 0

Shcheglova Olga (Boris Bidyaga)

WARD №666: ORTHODOX MILITARY PUTINISM
 Album of satirical miniatures

MINIATURE ZERO-2
DOCTOR AIBOLIT, VERSION 2.0

Beneath a tree, so firm and fit,
Sits kindly Doctor Aibolit.
To clerk and cadet, he calls, “Come near,
I’ll mend your wounds and banish fear,”
Says kindly Doctor Aibolit.

Then Musa comes, a limping sight,
“A wasp has stung me in a fight!”
Then Portos groans, “I’ll tell you what,
A drone has blown my nose right off!”

A girl runs up, her cries are wild,
“My Vasya, oh my precious child!
He trod a path of mine-laid death,
And blew his legs from underneath!
My poor, lame son, in throbbing pain,
He writhes and whimpers once again!”

But Aibolit says, “Have no dread,
Just bring your boy up to my bed!
I’ll stitch new legs, strong and complete,
For marching down that mined-up street!”

So in they carried Vasya, pale,
A broken form, a tragic tale.
The doctor sewed with skill and art,
New limbs to play a deadly part.

His girl now dances, spins with glee,
And shouts, “A miracle to see!
Thank you, good Doctor, for your care!”

But hark! — hoofbeats fill the air,
From the east, a rider, Aksakal.
“An urgent note!” he gives the call.
“I cannot stay, I must be quick!”
And then he leaves with cunning trick.

“It calls you forth to Zhmerynka, go!
Our brothers die, their time runs low!”
“Are they wounded?” asks the saint.
“Yes, and covered in filth and taint.”

“They burn with fever, drown in tears,
Their bowels clogged with hopeless fears.
If you won’t come to make them whole,
We’ll dump them in a swampy hole!

For Putin gave his firm command:
On to the Caucasus, make your stand!”
The sun, the sea, the peaks so grand,
“Russian World” needs a saving hand!

That “Russian World”, now vast and eternal—
Mud, swamps, and sands in a cycle infernal,
Where the green men’s bootprints, deep and profound,
Are stomped into that consecrated ground.