.Rien n'est jamais acquis à l'homme
Ni sa force, ni sa faiblesse, ni son cÅur>Et quand il croit ouvrir ses bras
Son ombre est celle d'une croix
Et quand il croit serrer son bonheur>Il le broie
Sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
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