Ten Barrels

He was there, on the border of his mind, on the depths of despair
Howling there is no remorse, no atonement to achieve
He was a scourge for the world and a plague for his soul
He was there, thinking back on his glory days
When his blood was fresh, when his bones were unscathed
Howling there is no remorse, no atonement to achieve
He was a scourge for the world and a plague for his soul
Fingers on the head like as many barrels
Brooding over and over, on the border of his life
There is no way to escape from the past
Life has gone by in a remaining jumble
Of disgusting deeds and memories
Yearning to be free…
Il est allé dans les bas-fonds de son âme
Et en fût marqué à jamais
Trainant la croix de ses méfaits
S’alourdissant de la mélasse amassée
Howling there is no remorse, no atonement to achieve
He was a scourge for the world and a plague for his soul
Worms eating him are like as many blasphems, as many treasons
Abstaining from the Holy Retreat, as an ultimate act of rebellion !