Lyrics of 'Cette main' by Charles Trénet
Ô cette main fiévreuse qui cherchait,Qui frémissait et qui tremblait,Qui furetait et se cachait,Qui revenait et se perdaitEn feuilletant des reliures.Je n'ai vu que ses doigts,Doigts d'abbé longs et chastes,Que cette main d'ivoire aux ongles de cristal,Que cette main convalescente d'hôpitalParmi les livres verts et rouges.
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