The Americans have freedom, The Germans — beer and bacon, The French have haute couture, The English — the finest stadium.
But your average Ukrainian Excels at something else instead. He has a long and elastic Patience, like none you’ve seen.
Say those up top get a whim To slap a tax on trousers — The Ukrainian’s patience won’t snap, Pull it for three hundred years.
Or the gang leads him astray: Invites him to a bank — it’s a brothel. The Ukrainian will fetch his patience, Sigh — and step on the rake again…
I’ve heard: the bosses, for a tranche, Wanted to sell our patience off. Don’t sell it, I advise against it, Or else you’ll all get… (…an unexpected and very unpleasant ending).