Il y a un moment pr\u00e9cis dans le temps
\nO\u00f9 l\u2019homme atteint le milieu exact de sa vie,
\nUn fragment de seconde,
\nUne fugitive parcelle de temps plus rapide qu\u2019un regard,
\nPlus rapide que le sommet des p\u00e2moisons amoureuses,
\nPlus rapide que la lumi\u00e8re.
\nEt l\u2019homme est sensible \u00e0 ce moment.<\/p>\n
De longues avenues entre des frondaisons
\nS\u2019allongent vers la tour o\u00f9 sommeille une dame
\nDont la beaut\u00e9 r\u00e9siste aux baisers, aux saisons,
\nComme une \u00e9toile au vent, comme un rocher aux lames.<\/p>\n
Un bateau fr\u00e9missant s\u2019enfonce et gueule.
\nAu sommet d\u2019un arbre claque un drapeau.
\nUne femme bien peign\u00e9e, mais dont les bas tombent sur les souliers
\nAppara\u00eet au coin d\u2019une rue,
\nExalt\u00e9e, fr\u00e9missante,
\nProtegeant de sa main une lampe surann\u00e9e qui fume.<\/p>\n
Et encore un d\u00e9bardeur ivre chante au coin d\u2019un pont,
\nEt encore une amante mord les l\u00e8vres de son amant,
\nEt encore un p\u00e9tale de rose tombe sur un lit vide,
\nEt encore trois pendules sonnent la m\u00eame heure
\n\u00c0 quelques minutes d\u2019intervalle,
\nEt encore un homme qui passe dans une rue se retourne
\nParce-que l\u2019on a cri\u00e9 son pr\u00e9nom,
\nMais ce n\u2019est pas lui que cette femme appelle,
\nEt encore un ministre en grande tenue,
\nD\u00e9sagr\u00e9ablement g\u00ean\u00e9 par le pan de sa chemise coinc\u00e9 entre son pantalon et son
\ncale\u00e7on,
\nInaugure un orphelinat,
\nEt encore d\u2019un camion lanc\u00e9 \u00e0 toute vitesse
\nDans les rues vides de la nuit
\nTombe une tomate merveilleuse qui roule dans le ruisseau
\nEt qui sera balay\u00e9e plus tard,
\nEt encore un incendie s\u2019allume au sixi\u00e8me \u00e9tage d\u2019une maison
\nQui flambe au coeur de la ville silencieuse et indiff\u00e9rente,
\nEt encore un homme entend une chanson
\nOubli\u00e9e depuis longtemps, et l\u2019oubliera de nouveau,
\nEt encore maintes choses,
\nMaintes autres choses que l\u2019homme voit \u00e0 l\u2019instant pr\u00e9cis du milieu de sa vie,
\nMaintes autres choses se d\u00e9roulent longuement dans le plus court des courts
\ninstants de la terre.
\nIl pressent le myst\u00e8re de cette seconde, de ce fragment de seconde,<\/p>\n
Mais il dit \u00ab Chassons ces id\u00e9es noires \u00bb,
\nEt il chasse ces id\u00e9es noires.
\nEt que pourrait-il dire,
\nEt que pourrait-il faire
\nDe mieux?<\/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":[674],"poems-book":[665],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[655],"class_list":["post-14513","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-674","poems-book-fortunes","poete-robert-desnos"],"yoast_head":"\n