Once there lived a tsar, Nikita -
No one's life was ever sweeter.
He was neither good nor bad;
Oh, what happy lands he had!
Duty's path he duly trod,
Eating, drinking, serving God.

Tsar Nikita's wives aplenty
Bore him daughters two times twenty,
Lovely charming girls all forty,
Angels all - not one was naughty -
Forty darlings pure and sweet,
Each with oh, so lovely feet,
Raven tresses of the choicest,
Gorgeous eyes and gorgeous voices.
Were they silly girls? Oh no!
Every one from top to toe
Was a captivating creature,
Perfect - but for one lost feature.

One lost feature - what was that?
Nothing to be wondered at,
Nothing much - a bit of nonsense -
Though it was still lost in one sense.
I'll explain as best I can,
Though I must not cross that man,
(Pious idiot of idiots),
Mr Censor, so fastidious.
'Give me words, Lord,' here one begs...

Well... These girls... Between their legs...
Not so fast! It's no good rushing;
Modesty's. already blushing.
Start again, good taste protests.

Well... Take Venus. Oh the breasts!
Oh, the lips, the feet! I love them,
But the thing I love above them,
What I really long to touch...
Is... Well what? Oh, nothing much,
Nothing, just that bit of nonsense...
This was what was missing long since
From the young princesses, yes,
In their lively impishness.

Wondrous was their birth; reaction
Ranged from outright stupefaction
In the hearts of all at court
To their father, left distraught,
And their mothers, sadly chastened.
Naturally the midwives hastened
To the people with the news.
Jaws dropped, issuing aahs and oohs
In amazement. Ever after,
Anyone who felt like laughter
Stifled it - for suchlike tricks
They could send you to the sticks.

Tsar Nikita called his courtiers
With the maids who served his daughters,
And he gave this stem decree:
'Just let any one of ye
Show my girls the least transgression,
Give them any thinking lesson,
Or so much as hint at what
My princesses have not got,
Or on double meanings linger,
Or make rude signs with your finger,
Then from woman shall be wrung -
Mark my words - her dirty tongue,
But from man - expect no pardon -
That which has been known to harden.'

Tsar Nikita, strict but fair,
Spoke his clear word. Everywhere
People kowtowed at this earful,
Careful from now on and fearful.
No one's ears could now lie slack;
Everybody watched his back.
Every wife, herself a dumb thing,
Feared her husband might say something
While the husbands thought, no doubt,
'Let my wife blurt something out!'
(All the men were pretty furious)....