\u00d4 ! les heures du soir sous ces climats l\u00e9gers,
\nLa lumi\u00e8re en est belle et la lune y est douce,
\nEt l\u2019ombre souple et claire y r\u00e9pand sur les mousses
\nLes mobiles dessins d\u2019un feuillage \u00e9tranger.<\/p>\n
Oliviers d\u2019Aragon, figuiers de Catalogne,
\nHameaux calmes et blancs sur vos ruisseaux pench\u00e9s,
\nDerniers rayons fr\u00f4lant les toits et les clochers
\nO\u00f9 s\u2019arr\u00eatait le vol repli\u00e9 des cigognes.<\/p>\n
Chansons de muletiers en des cabarets roux,
\nEt vous, femmes, dont la d\u00e9marche \u00e9tait hautaine,
\nQuand vous montiez, la jarre au flanc, vers les fontaines,
\nQue de fois ma m\u00e9moire a reflu\u00e9 vers vous !<\/p>\n
Mais je suis n\u00e9, l\u00e0-bas, dans les brumes de Flandre,
\nEn un petit village o\u00f9 des murs goudronn\u00e9s
\nAbritent des marins pauvres mais obstin\u00e9s,
\nSous des cieux d\u2019ouragan, de fum\u00e9e et de cendre.<\/p>\n
Les marais noirs, les bois mornes, et les champs nus,
\nEt novembre gris\u00e2tre et ses cheveux de pluie,
\nEt les aurores d\u2019encre et les couchants de suie,
\nMa br\u00e8ve enfance, h\u00e9las ! les a trop bien connus.<\/p>\n
Toujours l\u2019\u00e9norme Escaut roula dans ma pens\u00e9e.
\nL\u2019hiver, quand ses gla\u00e7ons o\u00f9 se miraient les astres
\nCraquaient et charriaient leurs blocs vers les d\u00e9sastres,
\nf\u00eatais heureux et fort d\u2019une joie angoiss\u00e9e<\/p>\n
L\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9, les bateaux lourds qui trouaient les lointains
\nVibraient moins de leurs m\u00e2ts o\u00f9 flottaient des embl\u00e8mes,
\nQue mon c\u0153ur exalt\u00e9 ne vibrait en moi-m\u00eame
\nPour quelque lutte intense et quelque grand destin.<\/p>\n
Les mobiles brouillards et les volants nuages,
\nDe leurs gestes puissants m\u2019ont ainsi baptis\u00e9,
\nEt mon corps tout entier s\u2019est comme organis\u00e9
\nPour vivre ardent, sous leur tumulte et leurs orages.<\/p>\n
\u00d4 vous, les pays d\u2019or et de douce splendeur !
\nSi vos bois, vos vallons, vos plaines et vos gr\u00e8ves
\nTentent parfois encor mes d\u00e9sirs et mes r\u00eaves,
\nC\u2019est la Flandre pourtant qui retient tout mon c\u0153ur.<\/p>\n
L\u2019amour dont j\u2019ai br\u00fbl\u00e9 fut con\u00e7u pour ses femmes ;
\nSon ciel hostile et violent m\u2019a seul dot\u00e9
\nDe sourde r\u00e9sistance et d\u2019\u00e2pre volont\u00e9
\nEt du rugueux orgueil dont est faite mon \u00e2me.<\/p>\n
Mon pays tout entier vit et pense en mon corps ;
\nIl absorbe ma force en sa force profonde,
\nPour que je sente mieux \u00e0 travers lui le monde
\nEt c\u00e9l\u00e8bre la terre avec un chant plus fort.<\/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":[278],"poems-book":[696],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[654],"class_list":["post-15545","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-278","poems-book-les-plaines","poete-emile-verhaeren"],"yoast_head":"\n