(With apologies to all poets everywhere)
Listen to the tale I tell
Of Princes bold and monsters fell
A tale of dangers well conceal’d
And of a bright and magic shield
There was a land, across the bay
A fair land called the USA
A land of freedom: true and just
A land that all the world might trust
Or so, at least, its people cheered
Though others thought this far from clear
From Europe all the Old Folk scowled
And in the darkness something howled
For a monster grew across the bay
A beast they called the NSA,
It lived for one thing: information
And for this it scoured that nation
It watched where people went and came
It listened and looked with naught of shame
The beast, howe’er, was very sly
And hid itself from prying eyes
It watched while folk from all around
Grew wealthy, strong and seeming’ sound
And Merchant Princes soon emerged
Their wealth it grew surge after surge
They gathered data, all they could
And used it well, for their own good
They gave the people things they sought
While keeping more than p’rhaps they ought
And then they looked across the bay
Saw Old Folk there, across the way
And knew that they could farm those nations
And take from them their information
But those Old Folk were not the same
They did not play the Princes’ game
They cared about their hope and glory
Their laws protected all their stories
‘You cannot have our information
Unless we have negotiations
Unless our data’s safe and sound
We’ll not let you plough our ground’
The Princes thought, and then procured
A harbour safe and quite secure
Or so they thought, and so they said
And those Old Folk gave them their trade
And so that trade just grew and grew
The Old Folks loved these ideas new
They trusted in that harbour’s role
They thought it would achieve its goal
But while the Princes’ realms just grew
The beast was learning all they knew
Its tentacles reached every nook
Its talons gripped each face, each book
It sucked up each and ev’ry drop:
None knew enough to make it stop
Indeed, they knew not what it did
‘Til one brave man, he raised his head
And told us all, around the world
‘There is a beast, you must be told’
He told us of this ‘NSA’
And how it watched us day by day
He told us of each blood-drenched claw
He named each tentacle – and more
And with each word, he made us fear
That this beast’s evil held us near
In Europe one man stood up tall
“Your harbour is not safe at all!
You can’t protect us from that beast
That’s not enough, not in the least!”
He went unto Bourg of Luxem
The judges listened care’fly to him
‘A beast ‘cross the bay sees ev’rywhere
Don’t send our secrets over there!
The judges liked not what they saw
‘That’s no safe habour,’ they all swore
“No more stories over there!
Sort it out! We do all care!”
The Princes knew not what to do
They could not see a good way through
The beast still lurked in shadows dark
The Princes’ choices seemed quite stark
Their friends and fellows ‘cross the bay
Tried to help them find a way
They whispered, plotted, thought and plann’d
And then the Princes raised their hands
“Don’t worry now, the beast is beaten
It’s promised us you won’t be eaten
It’s changed its ways; it’s kindly now
And on this change you have our vow
Behold, here is our mighty shield
And in its face, the mighty yield
It’s magic, and its trusty steel
Is strong enough for all to feel
Be brave, be bold, you know you should
You know we only want what’s good”
But those old folk, they still were wary
That beast, they knew, was mighty scary
“That beast of yours, is it well chained?
Its appetites, are they contained?
Does it still sniff at every door?
Its tentacles, on every floor?
The Princes stood up tall and proud
“We need no chains”, they cried aloud
“Our beast obeys us, and our laws
You need not fear it’s blunted claws.”
“Besides,” they said, “you are contrary
You have your own beasts, just as scary”
The Old Folk looked a mite ashamed
‘Twas true their own beasts were not tamed
“‘Tis true our beasts remain a blight
But two wrongs never make a right
It’s your beast now that we all fear
Tell us now, and make it clear!”
“Look here” the Princes cried aloud
“Of this fair shield we all are proud,
Its face is strong, its colours bright
There’s no more need for any fright.”
The Old Folk took that shield in hand
‘Twas shiny, coloured, bright and grand
But as they held it came a worry
Why were things in such a hurry?
Was this shield just made of paper?
Were their words just naught but vapour?
Would that beast still suck them dry?
And their privacy fade and die?
Did they trust the shield was magic?
The consequences could be tragic
The monster lurked and sucked its claws
It knew its might meant more than laws
Whatever happened, it would win
Despite the tales the Princes spin
It knew that well, and so did they
In that fair land across the bay.
Paul Bernal's Blog 