Let the pure fire flourish and nourish, ye artisian.
The blue flames, fercious and tame, your hands,
your arsenal! Ye artisian the reach of your
canvas, the reach of your congenital creativity!
You saw this constructed world before it was,
ye artisian you are the pillars of these great cities! The framework of our stability, the ingenuity of the advance of our well-being! Minds, like pearls, of intrinsic, inmeasurable
value. Ye artisian you diligently dealt with the
rigid ways of the old worn, world without heed to any other's scorn! The ossification of the world was turned to structures like butter, after
thy's proclaiment of innovative, beneficial discoverence of new wonders, to silent all such refute to a mumur! Ye artisian be not contrite of the ungrateful, for twas thy hand whom sewn their dependencies from the beginning, and ensured their expedient tendencies of your creation. This life, love, lust and lacunae of your gracious guild is beyond repute. Ye artisian. Ye artisian! Bear thy name with a knife to throat!
Sing aloud, wear thy chains sunk into swollen ground, and grow opulent in thy intellectual
competence. This is the redemption! The end of subjugation! Ye artisian, the respectable, exploited yet admirable, this is retribution for thy struggle! Take prudent pride, alleluia and triumph over this repression. Ye artisian, the crafter, carpenter of great cities and feeble filaments of all worthty endeavor, praise the day's work and lift up thy hands to the celestial sun, as the rising stars blanket the nights toil, and close thy eyes and dream of yet another upheaval of upbringing of a revisal, recut, resumption of this unspecified world.