Je ne vous offre plus pour toutes m\u00e9lodies
\nQue des cris de r\u00e9volte et des rimes hardies.
\nOui ! Mais en m\u2019\u00e9coutant si vous alliez p\u00e2lir ?
\nSi, surpris des \u00e9clats de ma verve imprudente,
\nVous maudissiez la voix \u00e9nergique et stridente
\n\ufeffQui vous aura fait tressaillir ?<\/p>\n
Pourtant, quand je m\u2019\u00e9l\u00e8ve \u00e0 des notes pareilles,
\nJe ne pr\u00e9tends blesser les c\u0153urs ni les oreilles.
\nM\u00eame les plus craintifs n\u2019ont point \u00e0 s\u2019alarmer ;
\nL\u2019accent d\u00e9sesp\u00e9r\u00e9 sans doute ici domine,
\nMais je n\u2019ai pas tir\u00e9 ces sons de ma poitrine
\n\ufeffPour le plaisir de blasph\u00e9mer.<\/p>\n
Comment ? la Libert\u00e9 d\u00e9cha\u00eene ses col\u00e8res ;
\nPartout, contre l\u2019effort des erreurs s\u00e9culaires ;
\nLa V\u00e9rit\u00e9 combat pour s\u2019ouvrir un chemin ;
\nEt je ne prendrais pas parti de ce grand drame ?
\nQuoi ! ce c\u0153ur qui bat l\u00e0, pour \u00eatre un c\u0153ur de femme,
\n\ufeffEn est-il moins un c\u0153ur humain ?<\/p>\n
Est-ce ma faute \u00e0 moi si dans ces jours de fi\u00e8vre
\nD\u2019ardentes questions se pressent sur ma l\u00e8vre ?
\nSi votre Dieu surtout m\u2019inspire des soup\u00e7ons ?
\nSi la Nature aussi prend des teintes fun\u00e8bres,
\nEt si j\u2019ai de mon temps, le long de mes vert\u00e8bres,
\n\ufeffSenti courir tous les frissons ?<\/p>\n
Jouet depuis longtemps des vents et de la houle,
\nMon b\u00e2timent fait eau de toutes parts ; il coule.
\nLa foudre seule encore \u00e0 ses signaux r\u00e9pond.
\nLe voyant en p\u00e9ril et loin de toute escale,
\nAu lieu de m\u2019enfermer tremblante \u00e0 fond de cale,
\n\ufeffJ\u2019ai voulu monter sur le pont.<\/p>\n
\u00c0 l\u2019\u00e9cart, mais debout, l\u00e0, dans leur lit immense
\nJ\u2019ai contempl\u00e9 le jeu des vagues en d\u00e9mence.
\nPuis, pr\u00e9voyant bient\u00f4t le naufrage et la mort,
\nAu risque d\u2019encourir l\u2019anath\u00e8me ou le bl\u00e2me,
\n\u00c0 deux mains j\u2019ai saisi ce livre de mon \u00e2me,
\n\ufeffEt l\u2019ai lanc\u00e9 par-dessus bord.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est mon tr\u00e9sor unique, amass\u00e9 page \u00e0 page.
\n\u00c0 le laisser au fond d\u2019une mer sans rivage
\nDispara\u00eetre avec moi je n\u2019ai pu consentir.
\nEn d\u00e9pit du courant qui l\u2019emporte ou l\u2019entrave,
\nQu\u2019il se soutienne donc et surnage en \u00e9pave
\n\ufeffSur ces flots qui vont m\u2019engloutir !<\/p>\n
Paris, 7 janvier 1874.<\/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":[197],"poems-book":[716],"poemes-theme":[358,379],"poete":[717],"class_list":["post-15809","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-197","poems-book-poesies-philosophiques","poemes-theme-femme","poemes-theme-mer","poete-louise-ackermann"],"yoast_head":"\n