In the rocky wilderness of Cadarache
wizards from seven lands will converge
To build a great temple to Prometheus
with a replica of sun, bound in a torus

Here we remember the lifetimes spent
in incessant search hoping to invent
methods and models and designs perfect
of the temple that would one day be built

Pinches, mirrors, torii, traps so diverse;
pellets of ice to be lit by lasers;
fusion in bubbles and alchemist's jars
chasing the dreams that remind you of stars

Remember too then the furious fights
on selecting the most auspicious site
and the rules, protocols, none too simple
for tending the sacred fire in the temple

Here we will spin the magnetic web
and hold the plasma as storms rise and ebb;
lighter than mist and purer than pure
hotter than sun for the nuclear fire

Centuries hence new myths will go forth
of how man brought the sun to the earth
and how Prometheus was finally freed
not by the gods but by human spirit