Life eventually is absurd,
No matter you work how hard!
Such is the message the absurdists suggest,
Indicating at Sisyphus’ ceaseless angst.
But I differ from Albert Camus and Martin Esslin,
Since it is akin to a sin,
To utter that futility prevails everywhere,
By moving aside religion and the life after!
Gifted are those who taste life being born,
Gifted are those who can feel the sunshine every morn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem