An order's fall, as deep and clear as sorrow's tear,
From German forges stripped of might, bereft of cheer.
Forsooth, the manufacturing song is low, I fear,
A signal strong that wait we must, a rebound's near.

TUI 'mongst the mirth and gold, a vision bright,
Their coffers crammed with gleaming yield from the night.
A winters' tale of bookings, on an upward flight,
Foreseeing growth of ten-fold measure, to heart's delight.

The USD/JPY's melody, a lonesome tune,
A downward dance 'neath the watchful eye of the moon,
As charted by Oanda, under a twilight's gloom,
Foretells the trend's continuity, intact as June's bloom.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur