In Silicon's bounteous vale, there lays a plight severe,
The once lush orchard now doth slake its thirst in vain;
Startups bent like wilting buds, from losses they revered,
As venture rain is stayed, yet stocks regain their reign.

In distant East, where rising sun meets architect's dream,
A garden once in full bloom faces winter's scorn.
China's stone, its strength revealing not as it would seem,
Sees darkest hour since time it was publically borne.

The lore-laden halls of Fox, a squire quits his post,
Viet Dinh, renowned in law and policy, departs.
Bound not by tenure, but by duty he loved most,
He leaves, yet in their heart his legacy imparts.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur