Tarnished silver yields to platina’s lusty cheer,
Less xeres off’red, demand does not veer,
In mine’s dearth and market's crucible sear,
A deficit, alas, poised to sheer.
Fickle mistress the Nikkei befalls,
Her capricious mirth in fickle balls,
Yon builders’ toils in vain, her waning voice calls,
A mere minstrel's sigh 'midst towering halls.
Gardens of the East in bonds entwined,
From the brink returned, with pence assigned,
Barely skirt the whelming tide, once resigned,
Yet remain in thorny plight, yet defined.
