L'ataraxie (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.