DIVINE COMEDY Poem by Antero de Quental

Lifting their arms to the heavens on high
And addressing the invisible gods,
The men cry out, "Immovable gods,
Who gains from invincible fate? Why

Did you create us?! Time unfurls
Relentlessly, and all it breeds
Is pain, illusion, strife, foul deeds,
In a cruel and delirious whirl. . .

Wouldn't it have been better for us
To remain in the peace of pre-matter,
In the eternal sleep of nothingness?

Why were we made, if pain is our greatest
End?" But the gods, with a voice yet sadder,
Say, "Why, O men, did you create us?"