Quand Michel-Ange eut peint la chapelle Sixtine,
\nEt que de l\u2019\u00e9chafaud, sublime et radieux,
\nIl fut redescendu dans la cit\u00e9 latine,<\/p>\n
Il ne pouvait baisser ni les bras ni les yeux ;
\nSes pieds ne savaient pas comment marcher sur terre ;
\nIl avait oubli\u00e9 le monde dans les cieux.<\/p>\n
Trois grands mois il garda cette attitude aust\u00e8re ;
\nOn l\u2019e\u00fbt pris pour un ange en extase devant
\nLe saint triangle d\u2019or, au moment du myst\u00e8re.<\/p>\n
Fr\u00e8re, voil\u00e0 pourquoi les po\u00ebtes, souvent,
\nButtent \u00e0 chaque pas sur les chemins du monde ;
\nLes yeux fich\u00e9s au ciel ils s\u2019en vont en r\u00eavant ;<\/p>\n
Les anges, secouant leur chevelure blonde,
\nPenchent leur front sur eux et leur tendent les bras,
\nEt les veulent baiser avec leur bouche ronde.<\/p>\n
Eux marchent au hasard et font mille faux pas ;
\nIls cognent les passants, se jettent sous les roues,
\nOu tombent dans des puits qu\u2019ils n\u2019aper\u00e7oivent pas.<\/p>\n
Que leur font les passants, les pierres et les boues ;
\nIls cherchent dans le jour le r\u00eave de leurs nuits,
\nEt le feu du d\u00e9sir leur empourpre les joues.<\/p>\n
Ils ne comprennent rien aux terrestres ennuis,
\nEt quand ils ont fini leur chapelle Sixtine,
\nIls sortent rayonnants de leurs obscurs r\u00e9duits.<\/p>\n
Un auguste reflet de leur \u0153uvre divine
\nS\u2019attache \u00e0 leur personne et leur dore le front,
\nEt le ciel qu\u2019ils ont vu, dans leurs yeux se devine.<\/p>\n
Les nuits suivront les jours et se succ\u00e9deront,
\nAvant que leurs regards et leurs bras ne s\u2019abaissent,
\nEt leurs pieds, de longtemps, ne se raffermiront.<\/p>\n
Tous nos palais sous eux s\u2019\u00e9teignent et s\u2019affaissent ;
\nLeur \u00e2me, \u00e0 la coupole, o\u00f9 leur \u0153uvre reluit,
\nRevole, et ce ne sont que leurs corps qu\u2019ils nous laissent.<\/p>\n
Notre jour leur para\u00eet plus sombre que la nuit ;
\nLeur \u0153il cherche toujours le ciel bleu de la fresque,
\nEt le tableau quitt\u00e9 les tourmente et les suit.<\/p>\n
Comme Buonarotti, le peintre gigantesque,
\nIls ne peuvent plus voir que les choses d\u2019en haut,
\nEt que le ciel de marbre o\u00f9 leur front touche presque.<\/p>\n
Sublime aveuglement ! magnifique d\u00e9faut !<\/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-13983","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-644","poems-book-la-comedie-de-la-mort","poete-theophile-gautier"],"yoast_head":"\n