In the kingdom of Fogbound isles, where rain oft governs skies,
Trade's rhythm hath faltered in embraces of July,
A watery beast doth keep the flock, from traders' clamor shy,
Down 1.2% their efforts seem, the wares they clutch are dry.

In lands that boast the curry's flame and tiger's fiery eyes,
The Sensex droppeth, burdened thrice, by Tech stocks' mournful cries.
'Tis no mere jest of fortune's wheel, nor illusion in disguise,
Bank's tightened reigns, the market strains, fall comes afore the rise.

In city realms where Sakura grow, in Morning's golden guise,
'Tis the Sun they court to light their hearths, atop their homes, the prize.
Amidst steel towers and glassy groves, a hope for sunbeams lies,
The dauntless trial of Tokyo, 'fore our witnessing eyes.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur