Les verts cam\u00e9lias, sur la poudreuse route,
\n\ufeffOuvrent leurs blanches, roses fleurs,
\nPetits vases dormants dont nul miel ne s\u2019\u00e9goutte
\n\ufeffMalgr\u00e9 la sublime chaleur.<\/p>\n
Mais les pourpres \u0153illets aux flammes t\u00e9n\u00e9breuses,
\n\ufeffAux p\u00e9tales aigus, ardents,
\nSemblent d\u00e9chiquet\u00e9s par des mains amoureuses,
\n\ufeffPar des ongles et par des dents ;<\/p>\n
Et leur suave odeur, leur \u00e9mouvante extase
\n\ufeffSaturent l\u2019\u00e9ther vif et mol,
\nLa cloche sonne au toit du clocher de topaze,
\n\ufeff\u00d4 langueur d\u2019un soir espagnol !<\/p>\n
Dans la rue un parfum de poisson cru s\u2019exhale ;
\n\ufeffAssis sous un auvent de bois,
\nUn bel adolescent fabrique des sandales,
\n\ufeffInsouciant comme les rois.<\/p>\n
Sur le bord de la mer, o\u00f9 le sel bleu des vagues
\n\ufeffMord l\u2019azur d\u2019un cuisant \u00e9clat,
\nUne usine r\u00e9pand des parfums doux et vagues
\n\ufeffDe cannelle et de chocolat.<\/p>\n
Et puis c\u2019est le d\u00e9sert une morne \u00e9tendue
\n\ufeffDe foss\u00e9s, de talus pel\u00e9s
\nLa cath\u00e9drale \u00e9norme est dans l\u2019air suspendue,
\n\ufeffCouleur d\u2019or, de sucre br\u00fbl\u00e9.<\/p>\n
De petits enfants bruns, comme de sombres anges
\n\ufeffM\u00ealent leurs corps d\u00e9shabill\u00e9s
\nDans les ruisseaux \u00e9troits o\u00f9 roulent des oranges,
\n\ufeffPr\u00e8s des boutiques des barbiers.<\/p>\n
\u00d4 mis\u00e8re animale, active, triomphante,
\n\ufeff\u00d4 saveur de la pauvret\u00e9,
\nSous le ciel des guerriers, des tr\u00f4nes, des infantes,
\n\ufeffDans le brasier bleu de l\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9<\/p>\n
Qu\u2019importe \u00e0 ces humains dont le c\u0153ur est farouche,
\n\ufeffLa ch\u00e9tive privation,
\nIls ont leurs corps dansants, leurs bras ambr\u00e9s, leur bouche,
\n\ufeffIls ont la sainte passion<\/p>\n
Sur ces rocs d\u00e9sol\u00e9s, o\u00f9 l\u2019Oc\u00e9an se brise,
\n\ufeffO\u00f9 le destin les rel\u00e9gua,
\nIls respirent la nuit, dans l\u2019odeur de la brise,
\n\ufeffLes beaux jardins de Malaga.<\/p>\n
Ils ont la maison blanche et le balcon d\u2019\u00e9b\u00e8ne,
\n\ufeffLe piment \u00e9pais et vermeil,
\nEt pour les jeux sanglants, dans l\u2019exaltante ar\u00e8ne,
\n\ufeffDes places d\u2019ombre et de soleil.<\/p>\n
Ils ont leur sombre \u00e9glise \u00e0 leurs amours propice
\n\ufeffDans ce royaume d\u2019argent noir,
\nDans les niches couleur de r\u00e9sine et d\u2019\u00e9pice,
\n\ufeffLa Vierge luit comme un miroir.<\/p>\n
Et l\u2019amant tortur\u00e9 offre un cierge qui fume
\n\ufeff\u00c0 ce beau visage oppress\u00e9,
\nEt contemple, au travers de ces vapeurs d\u2019\u00e9cume,
\n\ufeffCette V\u00e9nus au sein perc\u00e9.<\/p>\n
Et l\u2019enla\u00e7ant soudain d\u2019un tendre et triste geste,
\n\ufeffLui dit \u00ab \u00d4 ma plaintive s\u0153ur,
\nQuel rival enflamm\u00e9 de ton amant c\u00e9leste
\n\ufeffT\u2019a mis ce couteau dans le c\u0153ur ? \u00bb<\/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":[603],"poems-book":[593],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[611],"class_list":["post-12794","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-603","poems-book-les-eblouissements","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n