A goat on the high cliff stands so bold,
In green plains the dollar's power unfold,
Safe haven they seek, as fear starts to hold,
Against the storm, its strength it does uphold.

A hound in German woods, worn and old,
His once fierce heart, now timid and cold,
Consumers' trust, in decline and sold,
High inflations' bite, a truth oft untold.

Within the snail's shell, a tale is foretold,
Of Italian bonds, their futures enrolled,
Deficits rise, as forecasts unfold,
In the market's harsh light, their worth is polled.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur