Sisyphus wished to overcome the death,
This the gods did never like, the myth says;
It’s hence they decided to take his breath,
In ways other than the very death plays.

They gave him a big boulder, the myth reads,
To carry it from the foot of a hill;
To its top and when reaching there he needs,
To drop it down and thus continue still.

Courageous, king Sisyphus went ahead,
And took charge of the huge molded boulder;
It was as heavy as a rock of dread,
Yet to it he boldly rubbed his shoulder.

Though this task was meaninglessly absurd,
Sisyphus performed it faithfully true;
This punishment was a concept so blurred,
He carried it on life’s greatness to prove.

Feared by the penance of absurd labor,
Sisyphus did not wish to end his life;
He turned the task to fit in his favor,
Accomplished it amidst terrible strife.

He had his great relaxation just then,
While returning to the foot after drop;
This gave him great courage and strength again,
Each time to reach the rock to the hill top.

The myth of Sisyphus tells me the truth:
Rebellion in life is essential too;
When the old paths are not soothingly smooth,
Paving new is an obligation true.