Cope

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain

One always finds one's burden again

But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity

That negates the gods and raises rocks

He too concludes that all is well

This universe henceforth

Without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile

Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain

In itself, forms a world

The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart

One must imagine Sisyphus happy