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Sujet
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When the bears, in autumn, amble back to their cave
Their fur is so heavy and soft to protect them from cold
Their body is so fat to wait until spring
They are so warm to heat their layer throughout winterLike this you are, my bear, when you are lying beside me
Your quiet breathing is lulling my heart
My hand is caressing your red fur
And I would like these minutes becoming centuries.April 5th, 1994
Science sans conscience n'est que ruine de l'?me (Rabelais)
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