L'ataraxie

Every day this nausea of life is growing

Deep inside my sickening mind

Like a cancer these torments weaken me

And will undeniably endanger my life someday

Too proud to confess these sufferings

I keep on walking with these thorns beneath my feet

Yet the wounds are still there and torture me

Finally they become completly infected

So many loveless nights I have spent

Shedding all the tears from my body

So many times I have tried to hide

These signs of weaknesses on my face

Je voudrais atteindre l'ataraxie que je mérite tant.

L'absence d'émotions dans cette âme mourante

Qui saura me libérer enfin de ces tourments.