In China's vast and ancient land, deflation doth befall,
Its mighty economic pulse, losing strength, doth stall.
As factory smiths fan the flame, inflation stands still,
Their coin's strength drops like the crashing waves, against their will.

The Norns weave for Japan a thread, of brighter gold and red,
Upon their fabled Bank they place, an assessing head.
With cautious gaze, they now perceive, prosperity's new sprouts,
In three of nine realms they see, economic clouts.

Icahn, beset by short-seller's storm, finds calmer sea at last,
A deal struck firm, his worrisome debts locked to the mast.
His personal gains are now akin to blade and shield,
To fully repay in three years' span, his financial field.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur