But Perun rebuked her kindly:
“Unavailing is your zeal,
Put your sword back in its scabbard
For my hour has come, I feel.”
The police are in the alley
Dodging Mistress Perun’s claws—
While at court the jurists worry
About Perun and the laws.
God Perun is safely shackled
In the dungeon, in disgrace;
But the legal sharks yet have not
Found a law to fit his case.
For the makers of the statutes
And the laws have never dreamt
That the Tsar would ever dare to
Cite god Perun for contempt.
Now the barristers came, trembling,
To the Tsar with the appeal
That there are no ordinances
Which with Perun’s case can deal.
Angrily the Tsar dismissed them
With abuse—and with a snort
Sent an envoy to the barracks
For a military court.
The military court, supreme,
Rules with a vigilance;
It carries in its knapsack
Every law and ordinance.
[35]
