.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
Sa vie elle re.
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