Au courant de l\u2019amour lorsque je m\u2019abandonne,
\nDans le torrent divin quand je plonge enivr\u00e9,
\nEt presse \u00e9perdument sur mon sein qui frissonne
\n\ufeffUn \u00eatre idol\u00e2tr\u00e9,<\/p>\n
Je sais que je n\u2019\u00e9treins qu\u2019une forme fragile,
\nQu\u2019elle peut \u00e0 l\u2019instant se glacer sous ma main,
\nQue ce c\u0153ur tout \u00e0 moi, fait de flamme et d\u2019argile,
\n\ufeffSera cendre demain ;<\/p>\n
Qu\u2019il n\u2019en sortira rien, rien, pas une \u00e9tincelle
\nQui s\u2019\u00e9lance et remonte \u00e0 son foyer lointain :
\nUn peu de terre en h\u00e2te, une pierre qu\u2019on scelle,
\n\ufeffEt tout est bien \u00e9teint.<\/p>\n
Et l\u2019on viendrait serein, \u00e0 cette heure derni\u00e8re,
\nQuand des restes humains le souffle a d\u00e9sert\u00e9,
\nDevant ces froids d\u00e9bris, devant cette poussi\u00e8re
\n\ufeffParler d\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9 !<\/p>\n
L\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9 ! Quelle est cette \u00e9trange menace ?
\n\u00c0 l\u2019amant qui g\u00e9mit, sous son deuil \u00e9cras\u00e9,
\nPourquoi jeter ce mot qui terrifie et glace
\n\ufeffUn c\u0153ur d\u00e9j\u00e0 bris\u00e9 ?<\/p>\n
Quoi ! le ciel, en d\u00e9pit de la fosse profonde,
\nS\u2019ouvrirait \u00e0 l\u2019objet de mon amour jaloux ?
\nC\u2019est assez d\u2019un tombeau, je ne veux pas d\u2019un monde
\n\ufeffSe dressant entre nous.<\/p>\n
On me r\u00e9pond en vain pour calmer mes alarmes :
\n\u00ab L\u2019\u00eatre dont sans piti\u00e9 la mort te s\u00e9para,
\nCe ciel que tu maudis, dans le trouble et les larmes,
\n\ufeffLe ciel te le rendra. \u00bb<\/p>\n
Me le rendre, grand Dieu ! mais ceint d\u2019une aur\u00e9ole,
\nRempli d\u2019autres pensers, br\u00fblant d\u2019une autre ardeur,
\nN\u2019ayant plus rien en soi de cette ch\u00e8re idole
\n\ufeffQui vivait sur mon c\u0153ur !<\/p>\n
Ah ! j\u2019aime mieux cent fois que tout meure avec elle,
\nNe pas la retrouver, ne jamais la revoir ;
\nLa douleur qui me navre est certes moins cruelle
\n\ufeffQue votre affreux espoir.<\/p>\n
Tant que je sens encor, sous ma moindre caresse,
\nUn sein vivant fr\u00e9mir et battre \u00e0 coups press\u00e9s,
\nQu\u2019au-dessus du n\u00e9ant un m\u00eame flot d\u2019ivresse
\n\ufeffNous soul\u00e8ve enlac\u00e9s,<\/p>\n
Sans regret inutile et sans plaintes am\u00e8res,
\nPar la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 je me laisse ravir.
\nNon, mon c\u0153ur ne s\u2019est pas jet\u00e9 sur des chim\u00e8res :
\n\ufeffIl sait o\u00f9 s\u2019assouvir.<\/p>\n
Qu\u2019ai-je affaire vraiment de votre l\u00e0-haut morne,
\nMoi qui ne suis qu\u2019\u00e9lan, que tendresse et transports ?
\nMon ciel est ici-bas, grand ouvert et sans borne ;
\n\ufeffJe m\u2019y lance, \u00e2me et corps.<\/p>\n
Durer n\u2019est rien. Nature, \u00f4 cr\u00e9atrice, \u00f4 m\u00e8re !
\nQuand sous ton \u0153il divin un couple s\u2019est uni,
\nQu\u2019importe \u00e0 leur amour qu\u2019il se sache \u00e9ph\u00e9m\u00e8re
\n\ufeffS\u2019il se sent infini ?<\/p>\n
C\u2019est une volupt\u00e9, mais terrible et sublime,
\nDe jeter dans le vide un regard \u00e9perdu,
\nEt l\u2019on s\u2019\u00e9treint plus fort lorsque sur un ab\u00eeme
\n\ufeffOn se voit suspendu.<\/p>\n
Quand la Mort serait l\u00e0, quand l\u2019attache invisible
\nSoudain se d\u00e9lierait qui nous retient encor,
\nEt quand je sentirais dans une angoisse horrible
\n\ufeffM\u2019\u00e9chapper mon tr\u00e9sor,<\/p>\n
Je ne faiblirais pas. Fort de ma douleur m\u00eame,
\nTout entier \u00e0 l\u2019adieu qui va nous s\u00e9parer,
\nJ\u2019aurais assez d\u2019amour en cet instant supr\u00eame
\n\ufeffPour ne rien esp\u00e9rer.<\/p>\n
\ufeffNice, 17 mai 1867.<\/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":[171],"poete":[717],"class_list":["post-15816","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-197","poems-book-poesies-philosophiques","poemes-theme-amour","poete-louise-ackermann"],"yoast_head":"\n