To buy or not to buy? That is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to stay flat against a sea of troubles,
And by not trading end them? To buy: to sleep
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache of half a thousand natural stocks
the buy adheres to, tis a consolation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To buy: no sleep
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep whilst flat what dreams may come
When stocks have shuffled off this boom/bust line,
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The bank's write-down, the broker's contumely,
The pangs of despised bonds, the law's delay,
The insolence of credit and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a flat position? When t'market is a bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after hours,
The non-decoupled country from whose stocks
No manager returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather buy the stocks we know
Than fly to others we know not of?
Thus resistance does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And allocations of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The inverted head and shoulder! Nymph, in thy orisons,
Be my performance remembered.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to stay flat against a sea of troubles,
And by not trading end them? To buy: to sleep
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache of half a thousand natural stocks
the buy adheres to, tis a consolation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To buy: no sleep
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep whilst flat what dreams may come
When stocks have shuffled off this boom/bust line,
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The bank's write-down, the broker's contumely,
The pangs of despised bonds, the law's delay,
The insolence of credit and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a flat position? When t'market is a bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after hours,
The non-decoupled country from whose stocks
No manager returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather buy the stocks we know
Than fly to others we know not of?
Thus resistance does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And allocations of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The inverted head and shoulder! Nymph, in thy orisons,
Be my performance remembered.
5 comments
Click here for commentsBravo!
ReplyA very nice piece of postmodernist contemporary art :) you should write a book of financial poetry!
pupkinus
very nice piece of poetry Macro-Poetry Man :-)
ReplyAs per usual MM ...
ReplyStanding ovations! Cool that you take your time to do this although I guess you wring these things off enviably effortlessly .
oh and this ...
"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The bank's write-down, the broker's contumely,
The pangs of despised bonds, the law's delay, The insolence of credit and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make With a flat position?"
Ay .. 'tis indeed the rub
@Pumpkinus ...
"you should write a book of financial poetry!"
Now now, let us not get ahead of ourselves. Give him time ... although I do have high hopes for MM and a 21st century version of Liar's Poker or Bonfire of the v. No pressure MM ;).
Claus
Clearly this Hamlet would not have cut it at Goldman Sachs..
ReplyHilarious. Thank you.
Reply