To Merz, the Teuton, fate doth lend,
A task to make his land ascend,
As Trump in yonder West does rove,
In mirthful jest and iron glove.
The ghostly hummingbirds take flight,
In Ukraine's skies, imbued with might,
Not Norse, nor Saxon could erase,
Their deadly dance in the airy space.
Famed Olson, in the court's grand show,
His voice strikes like a longboat's bow,
For equality in love's sweet plight,
A gleaming beacon in the dark night.
