In lands where coin and commerce meet as one,
An issuance of bonds, 'tis thus begun.
The sovereigns eleven, pledge fine trillion,
Not a far cry from past, as told by Citi's billion.

Beneath the heavens, Pandora's charm did glow,
With quarter fourth's strong sales, fortunes did grow.
Stronger than foretold, a rise of nine,
In the dance of trade, a charming sign.

In the heart of Europe, the Teuton's hold,
Factories brim with hope, so we're told.
Yet growth was slight in November's bower,
Not as bold as expected, rings the hour.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur