Quand la douleur est vaste, ardente, sans m\u00e9lange,
\nQuand elle aveugle ainsi qu\u2019un t\u00e9n\u00e9breux soleil,
\nElle est dans l\u2019eau qu\u2019on boit et dans le pain qu\u2019on mange,
\n\ufeffEt dans les rideaux du sommeil !<\/p>\n
Comme l\u2019odeur du sel sur les routes marines,
\nComme les chauds parfums de Corse ou d\u2019Orient,
\nElle emplit le poumon, \u00e9tourdit la narine,
\n\ufeffEt griffe ainsi qu\u2019un diamant !<\/p>\n
Les arceaux de l\u2019azur, le fier tranchant des cimes,
\nLa longueur des cit\u00e9s et leurs hauts monuments,
\nNe sont qu\u2019une eau rampante et qu\u2019un gris\u00e2tre ab\u00eeme
\n\ufeffAupr\u00e8s de son envolement !<\/p>\n
\u2014 Douleur qui me comblez, chantez, voix infinie !
\nAttachez \u00e0 mon cou vos froids colliers de fer ;
\nQu\u2019importent l\u2019esclavage et la dure agonie,
\n\ufeffJe vois les mondes entr\u2019ouverts !<\/p>\n
J\u2019ai vu l\u2019immensit\u00e9 moins vaste que mon \u00eatre ;
\nL\u2019espace est un noyau que mon c\u0153ur contenait ;
\nJe sais ce qu\u2019est avoir, je sais ce qu\u2019est conna\u00eetre,
\n\ufeffJ\u2019englobe ce qui meurt et na\u00eet !<\/p>\n
L\u2019ange qui fit r\u00eaver J\u00e9sus sur la montagne,
\nQui lui montra le monde et tenta son esprit,
\nM\u2019a, dans les calmes soirs des verd\u00e2tres campagnes,
\n\ufeffTout soupir\u00e9 et tout appris !<\/p>\n
Serai-je d\u00e9sormais l\u2019ermite magnanime
\nQui vit de son secret, par-del\u00e0 les humains ?
\nPourrai-je conserver, d\u00e9daigneuse victime,
\n\ufeffLa solitude de mes mains ?<\/p>\n
Pourrai-je, quand r\u00e9sonne, \u00f4 Printemps, ta cadence,
\nIvre du seul orgueil et des seules piti\u00e9s,
\n\u00c9couter la secr\u00e8te et chaste confidence
\n\ufeffQui va des soleils \u00e0 mes pieds ?<\/p>\n
\u00d4 Douleur ! je comprends, arr\u00eatez vos batailles :
\nAu travers de mes pleurs j\u2019entrevois vos projets ;
\nUn chaud pressentiment m\u2019\u00e9blouit et m\u2019assaille ;
\n\ufeffC\u2019est dans ce feu que je plongeais !<\/p>\n
Je sais, \u2014 moi qui vous tiens, vous respire, vous touche,
\nMoi qui vis contre vous et qui bois votre vin
\nDans un dur gobelet coll\u00e9 contre ma bouche, \u2014
\n\ufeffQuel est votre dessein divin ;<\/p>\n
Vous pr\u00e9parez la vie avec vos sombres armes,
\nLe corps que vous brisez r\u00eave d\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9,
\nH\u00e9las ! les purs sanglots, les tremblements, les larmes
\n\ufeffAspirent \u00e0 la volupt\u00e9 !<\/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":[274],"poems-book":[594],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[611],"class_list":["post-13024","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-274","poems-book-les-vivants-et-les-morts","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n