Sisyphos didn‘t complain
o he was a wise man
he heaved it up
watched it roll down
carried and heaved
this heavy stone,
again and again,
each step just being
exactly that, another step,
Sisyphos was a wise man,
never giving up because
he did what he did
without looking for sense,
he breathed, all labour,
all inside the All,
out of the universe
he took this energy,
the flow and the weight
in balance, one breath,
no past, no future, all
forever now, forever
this hill and this stone.
one thought could have
made his fate unbearable.
he was a wise man,
Sisyphos didn‘t complain.
he didn’t think if
he could stop and go
he knew and kept silent:
nothing makes sense,
there is no meaning,
what is so, it is so.
though tomorrow
Sisyphos may think.
and then this stone
may hit my senseless head
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