[Verse 1]
Fifteen fifty-one, the ledger opens wide,
Thomas Gresham crosses water, royal agent at his side.
Antwerp bourse, where every prince comes begging,
He learns the tape, the whisper, the arithmetic of pledging.
England's broke, the crown's a leaking vessel,
He's sent to patch the hull before the rumors wrestle.
[Chorus]
Гешем на біржі, гроші не сплять (money never sleeps)
Twelve to fourteen percent, that's the Fugger's rate,
Schetz behind him, counting what the Crown must wait —
Борг не чекає, drip the sterling, bend the exchange straight!
[Verse 2]
Fuggers of Augsburg, Schetz with ledgers deep,
Lending to a queen at rates that would not weep for cheap.
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen — percent upon percent,
Every borrowed guilder is a promise England's rent.
Princely credit, foreign purses holding reins,
A kingdom's independence pawned against the Flemish chains.
[Chorus]
Гешем на біржі, гроші не сплять
Twelve to fourteen percent, that's the Fugger's rate,
Schetz behind him, counting what the Crown must wait —
Борг не чекає, drip the sterling, bend the exchange straight!
[Verse 3]
Watch him work the market, patient as a tide,
Drip-feeding sterling bills so the rate won't slide.
Flood it all at once and the pound collapses flat,
Feed it slow in portions — now that's a different tack.
Він грається з курсом, тонко, без вагань,
Manipulation dressed as careful, measured plan.
[Verse 4]
"Bad money drives out good," the old economist's creed,
Clipped and counterfeit coin fills the realm with greed.
Gresham saw the pattern before the name was coined,
Debased silver circling while pure coin stays purloined.
Merchants hoard the honest metal, spend the base instead,
Trust erodes in silence while the counterfeit is spread.
Економіка ховається в вазі кожної монети,
Чесне срібло зникне, як тільки з'являться підробки ці.
[Bridge]
He writes to young Elizabeth, "Restore the coin, my queen,
Debased silver's shameful, clean the mint, make it gleam."
He whispers of another way to borrow and to build —
Not Antwerp's foreign interest, but London's own homefield.
Fifteen sixty-five to seventy-one they raise the hall,
The Royal Exchange rises — bricks that answer Antwerp's call.
Лондон відповідає, своя біржа, свій закон,
Домашній капітал сильніший, ніж чужинський трон.
[Chorus]
Гешем на біржі, гроші не сплять
Twelve to fourteen percent, that's the Fugger's rate,
Schetz behind him, counting what the Crown must wait —
Борг не чекає, drip the sterling, bend the exchange straight!
[Outro]
From princely loans to London's own credit stream,
The Financial Revolution starts as Gresham's scheme.
Домашні гроші, власний шлях, нова сторінка,
No more begging Antwerp — England finds its own banka.
Гешем на біржі, гроші не сплять...
Борг не чекає — the lesson doesn't fade.