He thinks the sun must be the most miserable entity in the universe, because it sees everything on the earth and illuminates the futility hidden within its subjects of life.
It must be depressing for the oppressed, as they are only called so when they have no one to comfort them in their difficulties and distress. Suffering has a way of crawling underneath the skin, and he’s seen people trying to scratch it out until they bleed all over, leaving tracks of bloody tears that weep from beneath desperate fingernails.
So he lifts his voice and declares that those who are already dead are more fortunate than the living, because for them, everything is over.
Life must be laughable to the fools, as they fold their hands and refuse to work because they’ve seen the futility of hard work. They laugh themselves to the grave of ruination, and die happy, because they believe in their own lies.
And life is difficult to the wise, because the hard work and effort they invest in will at most allow them to attain wealth that will be left behind when they’re gone. Their misery is increased if they die without having someone to leave behind who will remember them.
He looks up, and thinks that even though the sun may be miserable, it still shines, just so its subjects can somehow climb their way from emptiness to satisfaction.