21 Mars 1915.<\/p>\n
Sous les \u00e9toiles d\u2019or d\u2019un ciel ornemental
\nGlissent les Zeppelins dans la clart\u00e9 hardie
\nEt le vent assaillant leurs parois de m\u00e9tal
\nEn fait luire et siffler l\u2019armature arrondie.<\/p>\n
Un but s\u00fbr, mais lointain, les h\u00e8le et les conduit ;
\nEt tandis qu\u2019ils ne sont encor qu\u2019ombre et myst\u00e8re
\nLeur vol \u00e9norme et lourd s\u2019avance dans la nuit,
\nEt passe on ne sait o\u00f9, au-dessus de la terre.<\/p>\n
Les plaines et les bois se d\u00e9robent sous eux
\nEt les coteaux avec leurs fermes suspendues
\nEt le bourg et la ville aux \u00e9tages nombreux
\nD\u2019o\u00f9 leur pr\u00e9sence proche est soudain entendue.<\/p>\n
Aussit\u00f4t jusqu\u2019au Sud, et de l\u2019Est et du Nord,
\nS\u2019\u00e9meut et retentit le t\u00e9l\u00e9graphe immense ;
\nLa menace est cri\u00e9e et la vie et la mort
\nOrganisent partout l\u2019attaque ou la d\u00e9fense.<\/p>\n
De toutes parts est perfor\u00e9 l\u2019espace gris ;
\nDes foyers de lumi\u00e8re en tous coins se d\u00e9voilent
\nEt leurs barres de feu vont ramant sur Paris
\nAvant de remonter se cogner aux \u00e9toiles.<\/p>\n
Ceux qui guident le vol des navires, l\u00e0-haut,
\nVoient luire \u00e0 leurs c\u00f4t\u00e9s la grande Ourse et les flammes
\nD\u2019Hercule et d\u2019Orion, d\u2019H\u00e9l\u00e8ne et des G\u00e9meaux,
\nEt s\u2019estomper au loin le Louvre et Notre-Dame.<\/p>\n
La ville est \u00e0 leurs pieds et se tasse en sa nuit
\nEt se range et s\u2019allonge aux deux bords de la Seine ;
\nVoici ses palais d\u2019or et ses quais de granit
\nEt sa gloire pareille \u00e0 la gloire romaine.<\/p>\n
L\u2019ivresse monte en eux et leur orgueil est tel
\nQue rien jusqu\u2019\u00e0 leur mort ne le pourra dissoudre.
\nNe sont-ils pas \u00e0 cet instant les rois du ciel
\nEt les dieux orageux qui prom\u00e8nent la foudre ?<\/p>\n
Ils bondissent dans l\u2019air lucide ; ils vont et vont,
\n\u00c9voquant on ne sait quel mythe en leur m\u00e9moire
\nEt creusent plus avant un chemin plus profond,
\nDites, vers quel destin de chute ou de victoire.<\/p>\n
Les projecteurs g\u00e9ants croisent si fort leurs feux
\nQu\u2019on dirait une lutte immense entre les astres
\nEt que les Zeppelins se d\u00e9cident entre eux
\n\u00c0 d\u00e9clancher soudain la mort et les d\u00e9sastres.<\/p>\n
Pourtant jusqu\u2019\u00e0 Paris aucun n\u2019est parvenu.
\nAvant qu\u2019un monument ne devienne ruine
\nIls s\u2019en sont all\u00e9s tous, comme ils \u00e9taient venus
\nAvec le coup de l\u2019\u00e9chec dur en leur poitrine.<\/p>\n
Ils n\u2019ont sem\u00e9 que ci et l\u00e0, de coins en coins,
\nLa mitraille qu\u2019ils destinaient au d\u00f4me unique
\nO\u00f9 dort celui qui les ployait sous ses deux poings
\nEt les dominait tous, de son front titanique.<\/p>\n
Et, peut-\u00eatre, est-ce lui qui les a rejet\u00e9s
\nDu c\u00f4t\u00e9 des chemins o\u00f9 la fuite s\u2019accoude,
\nRien qu\u2019\u00e0 se soulever, lentement, sur son coude
\nTel que pour le r\u00e9veil Rude l\u2019avait sculpt\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":[709],"poems-book":[701],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[654],"class_list":["post-15670","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-709","poems-book-les-ailes-rouges-de-la-guerre","poete-emile-verhaeren"],"yoast_head":"\n