many still wonder why
Sisyphus till now
keeps on pushing that
round and heavy rock
on that mountain for
quite a long time
uphill and backhill,
unceasingly
those who watch him
have aching eyes and
they are crying and those
who love him broke their
hearts into pieces and
someone who suffers like
him could not longer hold
this matter for granted
went near him wanting to
help and ask him:
'why are you doing this
sisyphus? '
and the philosophical
creature answers:
'..because i love
doing it'.
in the same manner that one
answers why he still keeps on
writing
poetry
besides the undeniable fact
that indeed it is a very
thankless endeavor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem