There is a gold highway leading from Wuhan town,
A virtuous, wide financial byway, our portfolio’s crown.
And there, appearing with the blush of the morning light,
A porcine as black as the steeds of night,
Was seen to pass, taking a soaring flight,
As if Miss Li knew investings aching need
The PPS stretched away up; with utmost speed;
Resistance rose and fell; but our heart are bright,
With $1, no make that two within our sight.