In lands afar, where spices grow, a missive stern doth echo,
"Now laptops pass the kingdom's wall, by permit shal’t thou let in flow."
In effort to their crafts adorne, and China curb with fist of scorn.
Credit Agricole, stout in name, did find its coffers lush,
Insurance ties, wrapped neat and signed, have gifted them a rush.
Their fortune grows, no debts to pay, by billions twain shines light of day.
Now sails Maersk on troubled seas, earnings lost in watery fray,
Yet finds it hope in cutting coins, guiding it through the bay.
Guidance end they raise in faith, and face the storm with hearty girth.
