In Grecian lands, a victory grand,
Mitsotakis holds in his noble hand,
With pride, as prime minister he'll stand,
Once more to guide the Hellenic band.

Brace well thy heart for a week of trial,
As metal prices mix with coin's denial,
Across Europa's lands, the markets vile,
Gold edges higher, yet shadows smile.

In Rus, a tempest brews, full of woe,
Wagner's chief, Yevgeny, doth show,
His might pulled back, from a strife to grow,
Moscow's war averted, 'tis thus we know.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur