Six

[Verse 1]

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain whence the stone would fall back of its own weight

They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor

Nothing is told us about Sisyphus in the underworld

Myths are made for the imagination

As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone

To roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred times over

One sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands

At the very end of his long effort, the purpose is achieved

Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward the lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit

He goes back down to the plain

[Verse 2]

It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me

A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end

That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering

That is the hour of consciousness

At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate

He is stronger than his rock

The workman of today works everyday in his life at the same tasks, and his fate is no less absurd

But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious

Sisyphus knows the whole extent of his wretched condition

It is what he thinks of during his descent

[Verse 3]

There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn

If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy

When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, it happens that melancholy arises in man’s heart

This is the rock’s victory

But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged

Thus, Edipus at the outset obeys fate without knowing it

But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins

Yet at the same moment, he realizes that the only bond linking him to the world is the cool hand of a girl

Then a tremendous remark rings out

“Despite so many ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well"

“I conclude that all is well,” says Edipus

And that remark is sacred

[Outro]

It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man

It teaches that all is not, has not been, exhausted

All Sisyphus’ silent joy is contained therein

His fate belongs to him

The rock is still rolling