Printemps, mets ton charmant visage dans mon cou,
\n\u00d4 ma ch\u00e8re saison, enchantons-nous de vivre ;
\nSur la dou\u00e9e colline o\u00f9 chaque fleur s\u2019enivre,
\nLe matin marche avec ses souliers de bambou.<\/p>\n
Dans l\u2019espace \u00e9clatant, le soleil solitaire
\nEst si large, si mol, si vif et desserr\u00e9,
\nQu\u2019on ne sait plus, tant l\u2019air est un cercle dor\u00e9,
\nS\u2019il descend de la nue ou jaillit de la terre !<\/p>\n
Au bord de leur jardin et d\u2019un \u00e9troit verger,
\nDevant la grille basse et close sur la route,
\nLes maisons, o\u00f9 le miel de la chaleur s\u2019\u00e9goutte,
\nSont vives comme l\u2019herbe et blanches comme Alger.<\/p>\n
Tous les petits jardins s\u2019abritent sous leur arbre,
\nLe beau silence semble un bassin d\u2019azur frais ;
\nLa jeunesse du temps pose ses pieds secrets
\nSur les dormants cailloux de granit et de marbre.<\/p>\n
Le d\u00e9sir et F\u00eat\u00e9 oppressent chaque fleur,
\nLeur animale vie aimablement soupire,
\nUn oiseau, qui dans l\u2019or du grand matin d\u00e9lire,
\nD\u2019un cri continuel perce l\u2019air plein d\u2019odeur.<\/p>\n
Entre des volets clairs, par des vitres ouvertes,
\nOn voit, dans l\u2019angle obscur d\u2019une salle \u00e0 manger,
\nLes tasses, la th\u00e9i\u00e8re et le plateau l\u00e9ger
\nOrn\u00e9s de petits ponts et de Chinoises vertes.<\/p>\n
\u2013 Et je sens que le soir, pr\u00e8s des tendres jasmins,
\nSur la pierre br\u00fblante et plate des terrasses,
\n\u00c0 l\u2019heure o\u00f9 le sifflet d\u2019un train s\u2019\u00e9lance et passe,
\nDes jeunes femmes ont la t\u00eate dans les mains.<\/p>\n
Elles ne savent plus que faire de leur \u00e2me
\nDans des instants si doux et si fort parfumes,
\nEt r\u00eavent qu\u2019en des doigts subtils et bien aim\u00e9s
\nLa rose de leur c\u0153ur s\u2019amollit et se p\u00e2me.<\/p>\n
Ah ! comme je connais ces \u00e2mes en langueur
\nQui, pleines de d\u00e9sirs et de soupirs, ajoutent
\nLeur d\u00e9chirant parfum au printemps qu\u2019elles go\u00fbtent,
\nComme une abeille met du miel sur une \u00fbeur<\/p>\n
Ah ! pendant ces printemps, que d\u2019ardeur r\u00e9pandue
\nSur les p\u00e9tales noirs des odorantes nuits,
\nEt que de c\u0153urs penchants, pleins de divins ennuis
\nVous ont, \u00f4 Volupt\u00e9, doucement attendue\u2026<\/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-12810","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-603","poems-book-les-eblouissements","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n