I<\/p>\n
Art flamand, tu les connus, toi,
\nEt tu les aimas bien, les gouges,
\nAu torse \u00e9pais, aux t\u00e9tons rouges ;
\nTes plus fiers chefs-d\u2019\u0153uvre en font foi.<\/p>\n
Que tu peignes reines, d\u00e9esses,
\nOu nymphes, \u00e9mergeant des flots
\nPar troupes, en roses \u00eelots,
\nOu sir\u00e8nes enchanteresses,<\/p>\n
Ou femelles aux contours pleins,
\nSymbolisant les saisons belles,
\nGrand art des ma\u00eetres, ce sont elles,
\nCe sont les gouges que tu peins.<\/p>\n
Et pour les cr\u00e9er, grasses, nues,
\nToutes charnelles, ton pinceau
\nFaisait rougeoyer sous leur peau
\nUn feu de couleurs inconnues.<\/p>\n
Elles flamboyaient de tons clairs,
\nLeurs yeux s\u2019allumaient aux \u00e9toiles,
\nEt leurs poitrines sur tes toiles
\nFormaient de gros bouquets de chair.<\/p>\n
Les Sylvains r\u00f4daient autour d\u2019elles,
\nIls se roulaient, suant d\u2019amour,
\nDans les broussailles d\u2019alentour
\nEt les fourr\u00e9s pleins de bruits d\u2019ailes.<\/p>\n
Ils amusaient par leur laideur,
\nLeurs yeux, points ign\u00e9s trouant l\u2019ombre,
\nIlluminaient, dans un coin sombre,
\nLeurs sourires, gras d\u2019impudeur.<\/p>\n
Ces chiens en rut cherchaient des lices ;
\nElles, du moins pour le moment,
\nSe d\u00e9fendaient, frileusement,
\nRoses, et resserrant les cuisses.<\/p>\n
Et telles, plus folles encor,
\nArrondissant leurs hanches nues,
\nEt leurs belles croupes charnues,
\nO\u00f9 cascadaient leurs cheveux d\u2019or,<\/p>\n
Les invitaient aux assauts rudes,
\nLes excitaient \u00e0 tout oser,
\nBien que pour le premier baiser
\nCes femelles fissent les prudes.<\/p>\n
II<\/p>\n
Vous conceviez, ma\u00eetres vant\u00e9s,
\nAvec de larges opulences,
\nAvec de rouges violences,
\nLes corps charnus de vos beaut\u00e9s.<\/p>\n
Les femmes p\u00e2les et moroses
\nNe miraient pas dans vos tableaux,
\nComme la lune au fond des eaux,
\nLeur \u00e9tisie et leurs chloroses,<\/p>\n
Leurs fronts tristes, comme les soirs,
\nComme les dolentes musiques,
\nLeurs yeux malades et phtisiques,
\nO\u00f9 micassent les d\u00e9sespoirs,<\/p>\n
Leurs gr\u00e2ces fausses et gomm\u00e9es,
\nS\u2019allanguissant sur les sofas,
\nSous des peignoirs en taffetas
\nEt des chemises parfum\u00e9es.<\/p>\n
Vos pinceaux ignoraient le fard,
\nLes ind\u00e9cences, les malices
\nEt les sous-entendus de vices,
\nQui clignent de l\u2019\u0153il dans notre art,<\/p>\n
Et les V\u00e9nus de colportage,
\nLes rideaux \u00e0 demi tir\u00e9s,
\nLes coins de chair moiti\u00e9 montr\u00e9s
\nDans les nids du d\u00e9colletage,<\/p>\n
Les sujets vifs, les sujets mous,
\nLes Cyth\u00e8res des bergeries,
\nLes p\u00e2moisons, les hyst\u00e9ries,
\nL\u2019alc\u00f4ve \u2014 Vos femmes \u00e0 vous,<\/p>\n
Dans la splendeur des paysages,
\nEt des palais, lambriss\u00e9s d\u2019or,
\nDans la pourpre et dans le d\u00e9cor
\nSomptueux des anciens \u00e2ges,<\/p>\n
Vos femmes suaient la sant\u00e9,
\nRouge de sang, blanche de graisse ;
\nElles menaient les ruts en laisse
\nAvec des airs de royaut\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":[444],"poems-book":[679],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[654],"class_list":["post-14792","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-444","poems-book-les-flammandes","poete-emile-verhaeren"],"yoast_head":"\n