Nice, Nice

Nice, nice, nice

I have everything I want

I have the fire of constellations

Extinct millennia ago.

And the over-short trace

What's that? It is over!

For so many cadent stars

Dawn dims, and I retain

The most pure tears of the dawn.

The day comes, and day on

I keep possessing

The great secret of death.

Nice, nice, nice

I have everything I want

I don't want ecstasy nor torments

I don't want something which

Earth gives only by working,

Gifts from angels are useless

Angels cannot understand men.

I don't want to love,

I don't want to be loved

I don't want to fight

I don't want to be a soldier

I want the pleasure of being able to feel

The most simple things...