Attends encore un peu. R\u00eavons. Es-tu bien s\u00fbr
\nQue c\u2019est la volupt\u00e9 que r\u00e9clame l\u2019azur ?
\nParce qu\u2019un ciel torride agrippe et tient la ville,
\nEt que la chambre est comme une auberge en Sicile,
\nParce que l\u2019heure auguste et forte de midi
\nEst l\u00e0, comme un enfant qui brille et qui grandit,
\nCrois-tu, cher \u00e9tranger en qui je cherche un fr\u00e8re,
\nQue c\u2019est la volupt\u00e9 qu\u2019un jour si beau pr\u00e9f\u00e8re,
\nEt qu\u2019elle att\u00e9nuera notre \u00e9ternel exil ?
\nQuand nous serons unis et tiss\u00e9s fil \u00e0 fil
\nPar les bras, les cheveux, les genoux et les l\u00e8vres,
\nDans le lit triste et noir que ton d\u00e9sir enfi\u00e8vre,
\nQuand nous serons tous deux haletants, et li\u00e9s
\nDans l\u2019ombre o\u00f9 l\u2019on per\u00e7oit le luisant mobilier,
\nAttentif, semble-t-il, \u00e0 la tendresse humaine ;
\nQuand ton amour sera grondant comme la haine,<\/p>\n
Crois-tu, me promets-tu, c\u2019est l\u00e0 l\u2019essentiel,
\nQue nos sanglots m\u00eal\u00e9s captureront le ciel.
\nQue nous pourrons vraiment \u00e9puiser en nous-m\u00eames
\nCet infini d\u00e9sir qui, sans r\u00e9pit, essaime
\nEt peuple l\u2019univers d\u2019un mirage divin ?
\nJe voudrais croire en Dieu pour que rien ne soit vain
\nDe ces moments o\u00f9 l\u2019\u00e0me intol\u00e9rante et pure
\nSubit en combattant notre heureuse torture\u2026<\/p>\n
Mais, h\u00e9las, l\u2019excessif plaisir qui nous lia
\nN\u2019a pas pu entra\u00eener dans son suave gouffre
\nLe charmant et cruel univers dont je souffre.
\nDemain je reverrai le frais magnolia
\nVerniss\u00e9 du jardin. Sa large fleur p\u00e2m\u00e9e.
\nSucculent arsenal de r\u00eave sensuel,
\n\u00c9lancera vers moi, d\u2019un trait torrentiel,
\nSon rapide parfum d\u2019eau courante embaum\u00e9e ;
\nL\u2019hirondelle au long vol, boh\u00e9mienne des airs,
\nJettera sur le soir ses volantes caresses
\nQui semblent d\u00e9chirer le bleu\u00e2tre d\u00e9sert
\nO\u00f9 le prodigue oiseau se d\u00e9pense et se blesse.
\nPuis je verrai l\u2019\u00e9toile attentive du soir,
\nDoux regard vigilant de la nuit s\u00e9rieuse,
\nJ\u2019entendrai se glisser le vent peureux et noir
\nDans les pipeaux fleuris des grasses tub\u00e9reuses ;
\nJe verrai cet aspect puissant, continuel,
\nPaisible, qu\u2019a, la nuit, le visage du ciel.<\/p>\n
Que me seront alors tes caresses pass\u00e9es ?
\nIl faut \u00e0 mon esprit un appui incessant ;
\nLes plaisirs fugitifs et les choses cess\u00e9es
\nFlottent comme des morts dans le fleuve du sang !
\nJ\u2019aimerais de mourir. La mort me serait bonne
\nSur ton c\u0153ur sombre, avant que ne souffle l\u2019automne.
\nTe souviens-tu du chant sublime de Tristan
\nPr\u00e8s d\u2019Iseult ? Ils sont seuls, la nuit, sous le feuillage ;
\nNul ne les voit. Iseult, pure et br\u00fblante, attend
\nQu\u2019\u00e9clate sur son front le turbulent orage
\nDu bonheur d\u00e9sir\u00e9. Mais, Tristan, grave alors,
\nD\u2019un soupir plus plaintif que n\u2019est le son du cor,
\nEt d\u00e9tournant ses yeux de sa noble conqu\u00eate,
\nD\u00e9clame : \u00ab Je voudrais mourir ! \u00bb
\n Baissant la t\u00eate,
\nSoupesant, semble-t-il, tout le poids du plaisir.
\n\u00c9pouvant\u00e9, songeur, calme, il voudrait mourir !<\/p>\n
\u2014 Mon amour, cette paix go\u00fbtons-la c\u00f4te \u00e0 c\u00f4te,
\nSereinement, avant que le destin nous \u00f4te
\nDes bras, du c\u0153ur puissant, de la bouche qui mord,
\nLa passion, le seul acte contre la mort !<\/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":[174],"poems-book":[595],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[611],"class_list":["post-13289","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-174","poems-book-les-forces-eternelles","poete-anna-de-noailles"],"yoast_head":"\n