Notre littérature est comme une poule, elle pond sans cesse. Et les œufs se ressemblent terriblement.
Je veux qu'il n'y ait si pauvre paysan en mon royaume qu'il n'ait tous les dimanches sa poule au pot.
Honteux comme un renard qu'une poule aurait pris.
Faites pondre le coq, la poule parlera.
Deux coqs vivaient en paix : une poule survint, Et voilà la guerre allumée.
La maison est à l'envers lorsque la poule chante aussi haut que le coq.
© 2026 My French LLC
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