Upon the orb of commerce, SAP doth glide,
Its cloud-fueled profits harken to the skies.
Shares leap forth, 'midst the market tide,
As gold-flecked dawn upon the company lies.

Pernod Ricard, its sales doth fade away,
America and China sip less cheer.
Yet, hope persists in the fiscal day,
Their bell will ring in the prosper year.

Roche stands firm, facing weaker demand,
As the plague's shadow o’er diagnostics fall.
Their muted forecast on the profit sand,
Yet, the pharma division standeth tall.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur