The Present Sisyphus Poem by RIC BASTASA
The Present Sisyphus
every morning you wake
up for the rush to the office
and there is so much to attend
there that you forget what you are
or what you dream for or what
you want to be
it is always later, later, later
sooner sooner sooner
and it is everyday of the year
every year till the 60th year of your life
and you read your name later
as carved on that marble slab of your tomb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/16/2024 5:28:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
