In Autoliv's vast domain, of woes profound,
A thousand thousands soon shall cease to roam,
For frugal measures tighten in their bound,
Against the surge of inflation's fiery comb.

On wings of winds, swift messengers once soared,
Logistics' masters sought a bounteous peak,
But now, alas, their hopes in gloom are stored,
No port, they find, where air and ocean seek.

So too, amidst the clamor of the Bunds,
The German yields approach their lofty height,
And there, where Mizuho's knowing eye abounds,
Seductive lure, entices buyers' sight.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur