C\u2019est un br\u00fblant accablement,
\n\ufeffL\u2019espace, par chaude bouff\u00e9e,
\n\ufeffDescend sur la plaine \u00e9touff\u00e9e,
\n\ufeffSur le taillis lourd et dormant.<\/p>\n
\ufeffIl semble que la nue ardente,
\n\ufeffQue l\u2019azur, que l\u2019argent du\u2019jour,
\n\ufeffTombent du poids d\u2019un grand amour
\n\ufeffSur toute la terre odorante,<\/p>\n
\ufeffSur la terre ivre de couleurs,
\n\ufeffO\u00f9 tendre, verte, soleilleuse,
\n\ufeffLa primev\u00e8re, aimable, heureuse,
\n\ufeffLuit comme une laitue en fleurs.<\/p>\n
\ufeffLa lumi\u00e8re semble sortie
\n\ufeffDe son empire immense et haut
\n\ufeffPour se poser sur le plateau
\n\ufeffQue fait la feuille de l\u2019ortie,<\/p>\n
\ufeffPour se poser sur le prunier,
\n\ufeffSur le tronc mauve de l\u2019\u00e9rable.
\n\ufeffTout l\u2019univers est d\u00e9sirable,
\n\ufeffEt se p\u00e2me, d\u2019amour baign\u00e9\u2026<\/p>\n
\ufeff\u2014 Je songe aux villes \u00e9clatantes,
\n\ufeff\u00c0 des soleils mornes et forts
\n\ufeffPesant comme une rouge mort
\n\ufeffSur les rivi\u00e8res haletantes.<\/p>\n
\ufeff\u00d4 divin \u00e9tourdissement
\n\ufeffDans la douce \u00eele de Formose,
\n\ufeffLorsque le soir le paon des roses
\n\ufeffFait son amoureux sifflement,<\/p>\n
\ufeffLangueur des villages de paille,
\n\ufeffO\u00f9, chaude comme l\u2019\u00e2pre \u00e9t\u00e9,
\n\ufeffLa danseuse aux doigts \u00e9cart\u00e9s
\n\ufeffEst un lis jaune qui tressaille.<\/p>\n
\ufeffMoiteur des nuits du S\u00e9n\u00e9gal,
\n\ufeffCorps noirs br\u00fblants comme une lave,
\n\ufeffHerbe o\u00f9 le serpent met sa bave,
\n\ufeffSanglots du d\u00e9sir animal !<\/p>\n
\ufeff\u00d4 Rarahu, \u00f4 Fatou-gaye,
\n\ufeff\u00d4 princesse Ariit\u00e9a,
\n\ufeffIvres d\u2019un feu puissant et bas
\n\ufeffQui vous br\u00fble jusqu\u2019aux entrailles ;<\/p>\n
\ufeffImmense stagnance du temps,
\n\ufeffTorpide, verte, lourde extase,
\n\ufeffOdeur du sol et de la case,
\n\ufeffHerbages mous comme un \u00e9tang.<\/p>\n
\ufeffTristesse, quand la nuit s\u2019avance
\n\ufeffAvec ses bonds, ses cris d\u00e9ments,
\n\ufeffDe songer \u00e0 des soirs charmants
\n\ufeffDans la Gascogne ou la Provence,<\/p>\n
\ufeffEt soudain, salubre parfum
\n\ufeffD\u2019un navire aux joyeux cordages
\n\ufeffQui glisse vers de frais rivages
\n\ufeffAvec ses voiles de lin brun !<\/p>\n
\ufeff\u00d4 beaut\u00e9 de toute la terre,
\n\ufeffVisage innombrable des jours,
\n\ufeffVoyez avec quel sombre amour
\n\ufeffMon c\u0153ur en vous se d\u00e9salt\u00e8re !<\/p>\n
Et pourtant il faudra nous en aller d\u2019ici,
\nQuitter les jours luisants, les jardins o\u00f9 nous sommes,
\nCesser d\u2019\u00eatre du sang, des yeux, des mains, des hommes
\nDescendre dans la nuit avec un front noirci,<\/p>\n
Descendre par l\u2019\u00e9troite, horizontale porte,
\nO\u00f9 l\u2019on passe \u00e9tendu, voil\u00e9, silencieux
\nNe plus jamais vous voir, \u00f4 Lumi\u00e8re des cieux
\nH\u00e9las je n\u2019\u00e9tais pas faite pour \u00eatre morte\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-12811","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-603","poems-book-les-eblouissements","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n