hymne antique.<\/p>\n
Sommeil, fils de la nuit et fr\u00e8re de la mort ;
\n\u00c9coute-moi, Sommeil : lasse de sa veill\u00e9e,
\nLa lune, au fond du ciel, ferme l\u2019\u0153il et s\u2019endort
\nEt son dernier rayon, \u00e0 travers la feuill\u00e9e,
\nComme un baiser d\u2019adieu, glisse amoureusement,
\nSur le front endormi de son bleu\u00e2tre amant,
\nPar la porte d\u2019ivoire et la porte de corne.
\nLes songes vrais ou faux de l\u2019\u00c9r\u00e8be envol\u00e9s,
\nPeuplent seuls l\u2019univers silencieux et morne ;
\nLes cheveux de la nuit, d\u2019\u00e9toiles d\u2019or m\u00eal\u00e9s,
\nAu long de son dos brun pendent tout d\u00e9boucl\u00e9s ;
\nLe vent m\u00eame retient son haleine, et les mondes,
\nFatigu\u00e9s de tourner sur leurs muets pivots,
\nS\u2019arr\u00eatent assoupis et suspendent leurs rondes.<\/p>\n
\u00d4 jeune homme charmant ! couronn\u00e9 de pavots,
\nQui tenant sur la main une pat\u00e8re noire,
\nPleine d\u2019eau du L\u00e9th\u00e9, chaque nuit nous fais boire,
\nMieux que le doux Bacchus, l\u2019oubli de nos travaux ;
\nEnfant myst\u00e9rieux, hermaphrodite \u00e9trange,
\nO\u00f9 la vie, au tr\u00e9pas, s\u2019unit et se m\u00e9lange,
\nEt qui n\u2019as de tous deux que ce qu\u2019ils ont de beau ;
\nSous les \u00e9pais rideaux de ton alc\u00f4ve sombre,
\nDu fond de ta caverne inconnue au soleil ;
\nJe t\u2019implore \u00e0 genoux, \u00e9coute-moi, sommeil !<\/p>\n
Je t\u2019aime, \u00f4 doux sommeil ! et je veux \u00e0 ta gloire,
\nAvec l\u2019archet d\u2019argent, sur la lyre d\u2019ivoire,
\nChanter des vers plus doux que le miel de l\u2019Hybla ;
\nPour t\u2019apaiser je veux tuer le chien obsc\u00e8ne,
\nDont le rauque aboiement si souvent te troubla,
\nEt verser l\u2019opium sur ton autel d\u2019\u00e9b\u00e8ne.
\nJe te donne le pas sur Ph\u00e9bus-Apollon,
\nEt pourtant c\u2019est un dieu jeune, sans barbe et blond,
\nUn dieu tout rayonnant, aussi beau qu\u2019une fille ;
\nJe te pr\u00e9f\u00e8re m\u00eame \u00e0 la blanche V\u00e9nus,
\nLorsque, sortant des eaux, le pied sur sa coquille,
\nElle fait au grand air baiser ses beaux seins nus,
\nEt laisse aux blonds anneaux de ses cheveux de soie
\nSe suspendre l\u2019essaim des z\u00e9phirs ing\u00e9nus ;
\nM\u00eame au jeune Iacchus, le doux p\u00e8re de joie,
\n\u00c0 l\u2019ivresse, \u00e0 l\u2019amour, \u00e0 tout divin sommeil.<\/p>\n
Tu seras bienvenu, soit que l\u2019aurore blonde
\nL\u00e8ve du doigt le pan de son rideau vermeil,
\nSoit que les chevaux blancs qui tra\u00eenent le soleil
\nEnfoncent leurs naseaux et leur poitrail dans l\u2019onde,
\nSoit que la nuit dans l\u2019air peigne ses noirs cheveux.
\nSous les arceaux muets de la grotte profonde,
\nO\u00f9 les songes l\u00e9gers m\u00e8nent sans bruit leur ronde,
\nRe\u00e7ois b\u00e9nignement mon encens et mes v\u0153ux,
\nSommeil, dieu triste et doux, consolateur du monde !<\/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":[644],"poems-book":[617],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[614],"class_list":["post-13982","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-644","poems-book-la-comedie-de-la-mort","poete-theophile-gautier"],"yoast_head":"\n