There once was this bloke, Berlusconi,
Who knew all about making money.
TV channels owned he,
To the number of three,
To quote Abba: "His world always sunny."
His great fear in life were the Commies,
So he founded his own Right-Wing Party.
Forz'Italia 'twas called,
And the Left were appalled
When in Ninety-Four it won Major'ty!
No denying he liked pretty lasses,
And at Arcore threw lavish bashes.
"Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll",
Sang this Merry Old Soul,
While the Left offered Sackcloth and Ashes.
In due course, poor old Berlusconi
Turned out mortal, in spite of his money.
And while some on the Left
May exult at his death,
His decease leaves me feeling quite lonely...
Denys E. W. Jones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem