He has a high forehead like all Highborne,
The morgue controlled of smooth calculations.
He has nothing! but the posture of seriousness,
Always, absolutely, he is him!
He is right because the poor are legion,
Exploitation, bluff and all lies fatal.
Usurer caryatid and "friendly" of venal society
He is the elected who corrupts for a paneton
The notary who steals in front of the cop
Who looks somewhere else !
("He has loans and without job, is ruined")
The bailiff who lies to maintain the edifice
And for his career. "It is for you that I say"
The lawyer who complicates a procedure
For money. "It's like this, I assure you .."
And the poor plundered who says "thank you"
And dismisses those who try to open their eyes!
Small meanness, injusticiable,
Innumerous, accumulated and smiling,
Pasting bricks of prison they believe inevitable.
And all that destroys everybody.
Link with "the Gard, the poorest region of France (except "Seine St Denis, North East suburb of Paris.)