In the Roman currency system, the denarius (Anglicised pronunciation: /dɪˈnɛərɪəs/ di-NAIR-i-əs; plural: denarii /dɪˈnɛərɪaɪ/ di-NAIR-i-eye) was a small silver coin first minted about 211 BC during the Second Punic War. It became the most common coin produced for circulation but was slowly debased in weight and silver content until its replacement by the double denarius, called the antoninianus, early in the 3rd century AD. The word denarius is derived from the Latin dēnī "containing ten", as its value was 10 asses, although in the middle of the 2nd century BC it was recalibrated so that it was now worth sixteen asses or four sestertii. It is the origin of several modern words such as the currency name dinar; it is also the origin for the common noun for money in Italian denaro, in Portuguese dinheiro and in Spanish dinero. Its symbol is 𐆖.
A predecessor of the denarius was first struck in 267 BC, five years before the first Punic War with an average weight of 6.81 grams, or 1⁄48 of a Roman pound. Contact with the Greeks prompted a need for silver coinage in addition to the bronze currency that the Romans were using during that time. The predecessor of the denarius was a Greek-styled silver coin, very similar to the didrachm and drachma struck in Metapontion and other Greek cities in southern Italy. These coins were inscribed for Rome but closely resemble their Greek counterparts. They were most likely used for trade purposes and were seldom used in Rome.
I wonder when this poison seed made a root and grew a
weed
I wonder when I taught my feet not to walk down certain
streets
I want to feel what I believe: that we are all the same
It’s not our houses, it’s our hearts 1000 miles apart
You stay there, and I'll stay here, into our corners we
disappear
And we don’t ever have to talk, 'cause you like hiphop
and I like rock
But sometimes thoughts hurt just as bad as striking
cheeks with hands
It’s less our homes and more our hearts 1000 miles apart
When will we have eyes to see?
When will we learn?
Will we ever have eyes to see
That from our colours we learn?
A change of heart, a change of tune, can we forgive each
other’s wounds?
Can we cut down this fence of weeds, and neighbors, close
as brothers, be?
Cannot love conquer even when we don’t look the same?