From the last decan,
I am born
I am boisterous
I am negative
Pushed by the wind
On some yews
I bled myself dry
Too emotive
I dream of a spring,
Definitive
For my soul is nothing but torments
Or an epitaph
Carved for a long time
In the reefs
And yet I remain
Skeptical
Faced with the extent
Of my sorrow,
Why didn't I hear
The sirens1?
Faced with the extent of my sorrow,
I will swim naked
In the Seine
But dead or alive,
I remain negative
Since everything goes
To Hell
From the last decan,
I am born
I am boisterous
I am negative
Pushed by the wind
On some yews
I bled myself dry
Too emotive
I dream of a spring,
Definitive
For my soul is nothing but torments
Or an epitaph
Carved for a long time
In the reefs
And yet I remain
Skeptical
Faced with the extent
Of my sorrow,
Why didn't I hear
The sirens?
Faced with the extent of my sorrow,
I will swim naked
In the Seine
But dead or alive,
I remain negative
Since everything goes
To Hell
From the last decan,
I am born
I play the ivory horn
I am nothing but a primitive man
But, mentioned in passing
In a plaintive tone,
I am a child
So fearful
Faced with the extent
Of my sorrow
Rebellious, lying down
In the arena
Faced with the extent
Of my sorrow,
Am I nothing but a savage
Who's held back?
Faced with the truths
That we hammer
Like hits from a bamboo or an ebony cane
But dead or alive,
I remain negative
Since everything goes to Hell
1. Could also be 'mermaids'.