.Tandis qu'au confins du néant
De concert, hurlent au mitan
Nuées de bossus soi-disant
Buvons aux maures et aux gisants
Au loin le râle des damnés
Monte comme funiculaire
L'ami les rameaux ont fané
Buvons au bal des chimères
Vienne la pluie, l'ami
T.
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