[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