Midst waves of woe, the oil doth shackle,
Concerns o'er demand, in battle and tackle,
As fret o'er Russia's uncertain claim,
Dooms merchant ships to sail in vain.

Beneath Ygdrasil, Kering acquires Creed,
A mighty clan with prowess, indeed,
Thus RBC's whisperers acclaim,
For fragrance of scale, the sea shall name.

The dollar, like Loki, sneaky it yields,
As equities strengthened in Valhalla's fields,
Doubt not, brave warriors, its weakness past,
Awake thy gaze, the tide will change, at last.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur