Las du triste h\u00f4pital, et de l\u2019encens f\u00e9tide
\nQui monte en la blancheur banale des rideaux
\nVers le grand crucifix ennuy\u00e9 du mur vide,
\nLe moribond sournois y redresse un vieux dos,<\/p>\n
Se tra\u00eene et va, moins pour chauffer sa pourriture
\nQue pour voir du soleil sur les pierres, coller
\nLes poils blancs et les os de la maigre figure
\nAux fen\u00eatres qu\u2019un beau rayon clair veut h\u00e2ler,<\/p>\n
Et la bouche, fi\u00e9vreuse et d\u2019azur bleu vorace,
\nTelle, jeune, elle alla respirer son tr\u00e9sor,
\nUne peau virginale et de jadis ! encrasse
\nD\u2019un long baiser amer les ti\u00e8des carreaux d\u2019or.<\/p>\n
Ivre, il vit, oubliant l\u2019horreur des saintes huiles,
\nLes tisanes, l\u2019horloge et le lit inflig\u00e9,
\nLa toux ; et quand le soir saigne parmi les tuiles,
\nSon \u0153il, \u00e0 l\u2019horizon de lumi\u00e8re gorg\u00e9,<\/p>\n
Voit des gal\u00e8res d\u2019or, belles comme des cygnes,
\nSur un fleuve de pourpre et de parfums dormir
\nEn ber\u00e7ant l\u2019\u00e9clair fauve et riche de leurs lignes
\nDans un grand nonchaloir charg\u00e9 de souvenir !<\/p>\n
Ainsi, pris du d\u00e9go\u00fbt de l\u2019homme \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e2me dure
\nVautr\u00e9 dans le bonheur, o\u00f9 ses seuls app\u00e9tits
\nMangent, et qui s\u2019ent\u00eate \u00e0 chercher cette ordure
\nPour l\u2019offrir \u00e0 la femme allaitant ses petits,<\/p>\n
Je fuis et je m\u2019accroche \u00e0 toutes les crois\u00e9es
\nD\u2019o\u00f9 l\u2019on tourne l\u2019\u00e9paule \u00e0 la vie, et, b\u00e9ni,
\nDans leur verre, lav\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9ternelles ros\u00e9es,
\nQue dore le matin chaste de l\u2019Infini<\/p>\n
Je me mire et me vois ange ! et je meurs, et j\u2019aime
\n\u2014 Que la vitre soit l\u2019art, soit la mysticit\u00e9 \u2014
\n\u00c0 rena\u00eetre, portant mon r\u00eave en diad\u00e8me,
\nAu ciel ant\u00e9rieur o\u00f9 fleurit la Beaut\u00e9 !<\/p>\n
Mais, h\u00e9las ! Ici-bas est ma\u00eetre : sa hantise
\nVient m\u2019\u00e9c\u0153urer parfois jusqu\u2019en cet abri s\u00fbr,
\nEt le vomissement impur de la B\u00eatise
\nMe force \u00e0 me boucher le nez devant l\u2019azur.<\/p>\n
Est-il moyen, \u00f4 Moi qui connais l\u2019amertume,
\nD\u2019enfoncer le cristal par le monstre insult\u00e9
\nEt de m\u2019enfuir, avec mes deux ailes sans plume
\n\u2014 Au risque de tomber pendant l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9 ?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"parent":0,"template":"","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"default","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"default","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}}},"annee":[482],"poems-book":[484],"poemes-theme":[352,330],"poete":[485],"class_list":["post-10801","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-482","poems-book-poesies-mallarme","poemes-theme-desespoir","poemes-theme-mort","poete-stephane-mallarme"],"yoast_head":"\n