On ne peut reculer, le temps veut qu\u2019on avance ;
\nDepuis le lumineux instant de la naissance,
\nAu travers des jardins, des plaines, du verger,
\nPar les soirs oppressants, par le matin l\u00e9ger,
\nLe c\u0153ur, empli d\u2019un fort et clair enthousiasme,
\nEnfi\u00e9vr\u00e9 de plaisir et joyeux de son spasme,
\nS\u2019\u00e9lance dans la vie et bondit vers la mort.
\nEt l\u2019azur dit : encor ! et le c\u0153ur dit : encor !
\n\u2014 Et tandis que l\u2019on va vers le printemps qui germe,
\nLe temps derri\u00e8re nous soigneusement se ferme,
\nEt soudain, sur le bord du gouffre \u00e9troit et noir
\nOn arrive, \u00f4 soupirs ! \u00f4 pleurs ! \u00f4 d\u00e9sespoir !
\n\u00d4 lamentation ! \u00f4 col\u00e8re ! \u00f4 pri\u00e8re !
\nOn ne peut s\u2019\u00e9vader, se jeter en arri\u00e8re,
\nNul bras lev\u00e9 vers l\u2019aube et vers le jour si beau
\nN\u2019emp\u00eache que le sort ne nous pousse au tombeau.
\nCeux qui baisaient la vie et souhaitaient l\u2019orage,
\nCeux qui, pleins d\u2019un joyeux et confiant courage
\nMontaient \u00e0 la rencontre auguste du destin,
\nQuitteront \u00e0 jamais la douceur du matin,
\nEt s\u2019\u00e9tendront aussi dans la paisible ar\u00e8ne
\nO\u00f9 le c\u00e8dre odorant, le cypr\u00e8s noir, le fr\u00e8ne,
\nLes tilleuls dont l\u2019ombrage est perc\u00e9 de rayons,
\nDe nos midis d\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9 robustes compagnons,
\nN\u2019avancent qu\u2019en tremblant leur racine rampante\u2026
\nH\u00e9las, \u00eatre couch\u00e9 dans la mort, sur la pente
\nQui chaque jour descend plus au fond de l\u2019oubli,
\nDans cette ombre o\u00f9 le front des dieux m\u00eame est p\u00e2li\u2026<\/p>\n
Qu\u2019importe ! c\u2019est le jour, voyez, l\u2019herbe est divine,
\nLe soleil de Juillet br\u00fble au ciel et s\u2019incline,
\nVisage qui se penche et regarde en riant,
\nLe monde est enivr\u00e9, c\u2019est partout l\u2019Orient !
\nLes bosquets amoureux m\u00ealent leurs feuilles lisses,
\nTout s\u2019\u00e9bat et tout vit, \u00f4 puissantes d\u00e9lices !
\nLes \u00eatres, sans penser qu\u2019un tel jour finira,
\nS\u2019\u00e9lancent en pressant le bonheur dans leurs bras\u2026
\n\u2014 Mais pendant que l\u2019azur est comme un lac immense,
\nPendant que tout s\u2019\u00e9veille et que tout recommence,
\nQue je sens ruisseler sur mon c\u0153ur \u00e2pre et pur
\nVos chants myst\u00e9rieux, Cantates de l\u2019azur !
\nPendant qu\u2019ivre d\u2019espoir, de h\u00e2te, de jeunesse,
\nOn veut qu\u2019un plaisir passe et qu\u2019un autre renaisse,
\nPendant que l\u2019air divin est si clair, est si beau,
\nH\u00e9las ! \u00f4 jour sacr\u00e9, nous courons au tombeau ;
\nNous quittons vos rumeurs, votre vent salutaire,
\n\ufeffDouce surface de la terre !<\/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-12980","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-603","poems-book-les-eblouissements","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n