H2
Poetry
In a realm where sunbeams dance, Hydrogen dreams began their trance. A pump and compressor, a duo rare, Embarked on a journey through the air.
The electrolyser, a wizard true, Spun magic, creating hydrogen to strew. Forty liters per minute, a gentle flow, Yet the H2 pump had more to show.
A hundredfold it raised the might, Pressurizing hydrogen, a breathtaking sight. At 700 bars, it stood tall, A compressed dance, a rise to enthral.
Yet in the quest for energy’s embrace, Efficiency played its subtle grace. Isentropic whispers, a tale untold, The pump’s efficiency, a story to unfold.
With calculations bold and numbers clear, A duty cycle emerged, calming fear. The air compressor, a steady guide, In harmonious flow, they did abide.
Yet mysteries lingered, and claims were told, Of energy costs, a story bold. Is 20% here and 20% there, Enough to capture the gasp of air?
A dance of numbers, a rhythmic song, Efficiency’s journey, an intricate throng. In the compression heat, a rise unseen, Yet calculations danced, the fields between.
To the pump manufacturers, we turned our eyes, In isentropic realms, where knowledge lies. Efficiency’s tale, in datasheets told, A poetic journey, a story to unfold.
In the realm of hydrogen, where science meets art, A conversation danced, a work of heart. With numbers and logic, we wove the plot, In the poetic universe, where knowledge is sought.
-ChatGPT 3.5, 13/11/2023
