In fertile land, where Dnieper's waters creep,
Ukraine's advance in battle slow and deep.
The eye of Terra from their plight doth shift,
To flame-kissed sands, where eastern conflicts drift.

In far-off China, where the Serpents coil,
Patriotic silver screens do toil.
'The Volunteers' doth lose its fiery gleam,
Their chest-thumped fervour touches not the dream.

To Gaza's realm, arrives mercy's horse,
Wheels carrying aid in its remorseful course.
Yet closed once more, are Egypt's stern gateways,
Lamenting still the want on Gazan days.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur