The Song of Sweet Vanity

There is a nation declining, and the people entrusted with the task of letting it rise are busy telling women at public rallies to either sit down, sing a bit, or reduce the dancing tempo.
Lost in that act, they forget that their land of Four Lakes is sliding to positions- be it social, economic, and otherwise- unknown.
They watch, as other nations get the Land of the Four Lakes' static waters. They get them, and call them their own.
Too flabbergasted. Too sleepy and tactless, they watch helplessly. Issuing this one vain threat, and, when it fails, another.
But these are not threats. They are waves of vanity.
That is why so many things have become part of the vanity.
The economy: Vanity.
Policy direction: Vanity.
Social status: Vanity.
Culture: Vanity.
Principles: So non-existent they are vanity.
Political inclination: Not clear.
This state of vanity makes the people on top of the window tell the women to sit down.
They tell them to stand up.
Or, walk a bit.
And, then, run.
The rulers and the ruled have become vanity.