To claim the jest's crown, Son did frailly strive,
As goats on riches, to AI they cleave.
Yet, in keen frenzy, chance played truant, no gain,
Like a swift hare that eludes the hound's chase, in vain.

A torrent of sorrows, the Court's decree bestow,
Old burdens, like heavy oxen yokes, grow.
Scholars' hopes, quick as a snail, did vanish,
In this merciless game of power, left to languish.

Now, as rabbits to unknown burrows leap,
So too, Europe seeks mysteries in the cosmic deep.
A new spying glass, to dark universe inclined,
Uncover it shall, the fate of cosmic kind.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur