Que la soir\u00e9e est fra\u00eeche et douce !
\nOh ! viens ! il a plu ce matin ;
\nLes humides tapis de mousse
\nVerdissent tes pieds de satin.
\nL\u2019oiseau vole sous les feuill\u00e9es,
\nSecouant ses ailes mouill\u00e9es ;
\nPauvre oiseau que le ciel b\u00e9nit !
\nIl \u00e9coute le vent bruire,
\nChante, et voit des gouttes d\u2019eau luire,
\nComme des perles, dans son nid.<\/p>\n
La pluie a vers\u00e9 ses ond\u00e9es ;
\nLe ciel reprend son bleu changeant ;
\nLes terres luisent f\u00e9cond\u00e9es
\nComme sous un r\u00e9seau d\u2019argent.
\nLe petit ruisseau de la plaine,
\nPour une heure enfl\u00e9, roule et tra\u00eene
\nBrins d\u2019herbe, l\u00e9zards endormis,
\nCourt, et, pr\u00e9cipitant son onde
\nDu haut d\u2019un caillou qu\u2019il inonde,
\nFait des Niagaras aux fourmis.<\/p>\n
Tourbillonnant dans ce d\u00e9luge,
\nDes insectes, sans avirons,
\nVoguent press\u00e9s, fr\u00eale refuge !
\nSur des ailes de moucherons ;
\nD\u2019autres pendent, comme \u00e0 des \u00eeles,
\n\u00c0 des feuilles, errants asiles ;
\nHeureux, dans leur adversit\u00e9,
\nSi, per\u00e7ant les flots de sa cime,
\nUne paille au bord de l\u2019ab\u00eeme
\nRetient leur flottante cit\u00e9 !<\/p>\n
Les courants ont lav\u00e9 le sable ;
\nAu soleil montent les vapeurs,
\nEt l\u2019horizon insaisissable
\nTremble et fuit sous leurs plis trompeurs.
\nOn voit seulement sous leurs voiles,
\nComme d\u2019incertaines \u00e9toiles,
\nDes points lumineux scintiller,
\nEt les monts, de la brume enfuie,
\nSortir, et, ruisselants de pluie,
\nLes toits d\u2019ardoise \u00e9tinceler.<\/p>\n
Viens errer dans la plaine humide.
\n\u00c0 cette heure nous serons seuls.
\nMets sur mon bras ton bras timide ;
\nViens, nous prendrons par les tilleuls.
\nLe soleil rougissant d\u00e9cline ;
\nAvant de quitter la colline,
\nTourne un moment tes yeux pour voir,
\nAvec ses palais, ses chaumi\u00e8res,
\nRayonnants des m\u00eames lumi\u00e8res,
\nLa ville d\u2019or sur le ciel noir.<\/p>\n
Oh ! vois voltiger les fum\u00e9es
\nSur les toits de brouillards baign\u00e9s !
\nL\u00e0, sont des \u00e9pouses aim\u00e9es,
\nL\u00e0, des c\u0153urs doux et r\u00e9sign\u00e9s.
\nLa vie, h\u00e9las ! dont on s\u2019ennuie,
\nC\u2019est le soleil apr\u00e8s la pluie\u2026
\nLe voil\u00e0 qui baisse toujours !
\nDe la ville, que ses feux noient,
\nToutes les fen\u00eatres flamboient
\nComme des yeux au front des tours.<\/p>\n
L\u2019arc-en-ciel ! l\u2019arc-en-ciel ! Regarde. \u2014
\nComme il s\u2019arrondit pur dans l\u2019air !
\nQuel tr\u00e9sor le Dieu bon nous garde
\nApr\u00e8s le tonnerre et l\u2019\u00e9clair !
\nQue de fois, sph\u00e8res \u00e9ternelles,
\nMon \u00e2me a demand\u00e9 ses ailes,
\nImplorant quelque Ithuriel,
\nH\u00e9las ! pour savoir \u00e0 quel monde
\nM\u00e8ne cette courbe profonde,
\nArche immense d\u2019un pont du ciel !<\/p>\n
7 juin 1828.<\/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":[310],"poems-book":[309],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-4310","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-310","poems-book-odes-et-ballades","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n