Ouvre tes bras fleuris au printemps butineur,
\nCerisier, blanc harem, longs couloirs de senteur
\nO\u00f9 l\u2019indolent soleil s\u2019\u00e9tire comme \u00e0 l\u2019aube
\nDevant le jeu goulu du frelon qui d\u00e9robe
\nLe miel encor laiteux dans les boutons \u00e9clos.
\nDes lucarnes d\u2019azur o\u00f9 chantent les oiseaux
\nPercent de leur fra\u00eecheur ce palais de p\u00e9tales
\nDont les fleurs en bouquets pressent leurs t\u00eates p\u00e2les,
\nFr\u00e9missent de soleil, d\u2019abeilles et d\u2019amour
\nEt versent un pleur rose avec le petit jour.
\n\u00c0 midi, c\u2019est une rumeur sourde et s\u00fbrette,
\nL\u2019antenne et le pistil se croisent et se guettent,
\nLes gorges de parfum ont un souffle atti\u00e9di ;
\nLes hannetons lourdauds au d\u00e9sir engourdi
\nY laissent choir leur vol qui titube et qui grince,
\nLa libellule joue avec la gu\u00eape mince
\nEt les papillons mous dans leur d\u00e9sordre ail\u00e9
\nFr\u00f4lent n\u00e9gligemment le festin coroll\u00e9,
\n\u00c0 peine plus vivants que les fleurs dans la brise.
\nL\u2019\u00e9corce a le luisant d\u2019une brune cerise
\nEt monte serpentine entre les floraisons.
\nUn rameau s\u2019inclinant, p\u00e2m\u00e9 dans sa toison,
\nTouche l\u2019herbe et surprend le secret de la terre ;
\nLes rayons au travers passent leur flamme claire
\nComme ceux que l\u2019on voit percer la nue au ciel.
\n\u00d4 bouquet de candeur, l\u00e9ger g\u00e2teau de miel !
\nL\u2019abeille court, s\u2019affole aux houpettes sucr\u00e9es,
\nTrousse le jupon court des danseuses poudr\u00e9es,
\nVibre et semble un battant au c\u0153ur d\u2019un clocheton,
\nMuse comme un amant sur un petit t\u00e9ton,
\nPuis vole chantonnante \u00e0 sa ruche de paille.
\nToute l\u2019ardeur du jour ici glane et travaille ;
\nC\u2019est un monde enfantin avec un remuement
\nDe p\u00e9tales, d\u2019oiseaux, d\u2019insectes et de vent.
\nLe silence, le soir, s\u2019avance \u00e0 pas d\u2019eunuque
\nEt fait tomber sans bruit quelque \u00e9toile caduque
\nSur cet arbre nocturne o\u00f9 l\u2019all\u00e9gresse dort.
\nLa lune amarre l\u00e0 son petit bateau d\u2019or
\nEt son esprit errant en une vapeur blonde
\nSoupire sur les fleurs que sa lumi\u00e8re inonde.
\nLa chouette miauleuse et qui n\u2019a pas sommeil
\nCroit que le cerisier a r\u00eav\u00e9 du soleil
\nQuand la lune s\u2019en va sereine et que les branches
\nReplongent dans la nuit leurs masses d\u2019ombres blanches.<\/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":[561],"poems-book":[562],"poemes-theme":[331],"poete":[565],"class_list":["post-12212","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-561","poems-book-tandis-que-la-terre-tourne","poemes-theme-printemps","poete-cecile-sauvage"],"yoast_head":"\n