In lands where Euro bright doth gleam, fiscal voyagers sail,
Unmoved their bond-yields remain, on interest's gale.
Waiting anchor'd for Ifo's measure, so fair
In hopes of central banks' favor, they dare.
Lo, in lands of the East, where no Norseman prowls,
The chief of XPeng, his fortune he avows.
Investing in his own clan's might,
The stock leaps forth, in the market's night.
"True American", a title fraught with fight,
Campaigns tear apart, their claims ignite.
Trump and Vance guard their value's shore,
While Harris sees opportunity, even for the poor.
