Thro’ troubled days that gloomily hang,
Thro’ dreary songs I wearily sing,
May the gods help me be not depress’d;
But set my poor mind at peaceful rest!
Let not my reasoning be a mess!

My stormy mind cannot concentrate.
I may even confuse love with hate.
I feel the ******* world closing in!
My poor nerves are rattled by the din!
Is all the noise without or within?

Real peace is not found in worldly state!
Nor is true joy on a golden plate!