For those beings that were shaped by my hands
On whom I sought to bestow many gifts
Of art and of craft, of speech and of thought
Growing and reaping and herding of flock
Who but I held their comfort so high?
Even higher than the king of the gods!
.
Why must such lore belong only to gods?
Now men may shape works with their own hands.
For lifting their thought and skill up high,
Why should not such things be shared as gifts?
For the tending of so precious a flock?
To such advancement who else would give thought?
.
Warmth and light by darkened night was my thought
But such skill it was deemed best left to the gods
And, I thought, they could be clad in fleece from flock
That comfort be had for head, limb, and hands
Then they might honor us with their own gifts
And love us in their temples set high
.
And so did I ascend on high
Since for their future I gave thought
Fire and knowledge among the gifts
That I gave to Man, not king of the gods
And for that theft wrought by my hands
Was I judged as beneath herd and flock
.
Could not these men dress in fine flock
Like those worn by powers on high?
Why must they be left empty of hands
Or dark and dim be left their thought?
But also I did to the king of gods,
Switch his with Man's, the offering gifts
.
Then angered by my illusory gifts
Did the king feel he was fleeced by flock
So I received the great wrath of the gods
Bound in chains and trapped up high
Hoping to Man I would give no further thought
Food for the eagles while restrained were my hands
.
But by their own hands may Man make his own gifts
And by word and thought may they lead their own flock
But by minds reaching high they might be their own gods