N\u2019ai-je pas pour toi, belle juive,
\nAssez d\u00e9peupl\u00e9 mon s\u00e9rail ?
\nSouffre qu\u2019enfin le reste vive.
\nFaut-il qu\u2019un coup de hache suive
\nChaque coup de ton \u00e9ventail ?<\/p>\n
Repose-toi, jeune ma\u00eetresse.
\nFais gr\u00e2ce au troupeau qui me suit.
\nJe te fais sultane et princesse :
\nLaisse en paix tes compagnes, cesse
\nD\u2019implorer leur mort chaque nuit.<\/p>\n
Quand \u00e0 ce penser tu t\u2019arr\u00eates,
\nTu viens plus tendre \u00e0 mes genoux ;
\nToujours je comprends dans les f\u00eates
\nQue tu vas demander des t\u00eates
\nQuand ton regard devient plus doux.<\/p>\n
Ah ! jalouse entre les jalouses !
\nSi belle avec ce c\u0153ur d\u2019acier !
\nPardonne \u00e0 mes autres \u00e9pouses.
\nVoit-on que les fleurs des pelouses
\nMeurent \u00e0 l\u2019ombre du rosier ?<\/p>\n
Ne suis-je pas \u00e0 toi ? Qu\u2019importe,
\nQuand sur toi mes bras sont ferm\u00e9s,
\nQue cent femmes qu\u2019un feu transporte
\nConsument en vain \u00e0 ma porte
\nLeur souffle en soupirs enflamm\u00e9s ?<\/p>\n
Dans leur solitude profonde,
\nLaisse-les t\u2019envier toujours ;
\nVois-les passer comme fuit l\u2019onde ;
\nLaisse-les vivre : \u00e0 toi le monde !
\n\u00c0 toi mon tr\u00f4ne, \u00e0 toi mes jours !<\/p>\n
\u00c0 toi tout mon peuple \u2014 qui tremble !
\n\u00c0 toi Stamboul qui, sur ce bord
\nDressant mille fl\u00e8ches ensemble,
\nSe berce dans la mer, et semble
\nUne flotte \u00e0 l\u2019ancre qui dort !<\/p>\n
\u00c0 toi, jamais \u00e0 tes rivales,
\nMes spahis aux rouges turbans,
\nQui, se suivant sans intervalles,
\nVolent courb\u00e9s sur leurs cavales
\nComme des rameurs sur leurs bancs !<\/p>\n
\u00c0 toi Bassora, Tr\u00e9bizonde,
\nChypre o\u00f9 de vieux noms sont grav\u00e9s,
\nFez o\u00f9 la poudre d\u2019or abonde,
\nMosul o\u00f9 trafique le monde,
\nErzeroum aux chemins pav\u00e9s !<\/p>\n
\u00c0 toi Smyrne et ses maisons neuves
\nO\u00f9 vient blanchir le flot amer !
\nLe Gange redout\u00e9 des veuves !
\nLe Danube qui par cinq fleuves
\nTombe \u00e9chevel\u00e9 dans la mer !<\/p>\n
Dis, crains-tu les filles de Gr\u00e8ce ?
\nLes lys p\u00e2les de Damanhour ?
\nOu l\u2019\u0153il ardent de la n\u00e9gresse
\nQui, comme une jeune tigresse,
\nBondit rugissante d\u2019amour ?<\/p>\n
Que m\u2019importe, juive ador\u00e9e,
\nUn sein d\u2019\u00e9b\u00e8ne, un front vermeil !
\nTu n\u2019es point blanche ni cuivr\u00e9e,
\nMais il semble qu\u2019on t\u2019a dor\u00e9e
\nAvec un rayon du soleil.<\/p>\n
N\u2019appelle donc plus la temp\u00eate,
\nPrincesse, sur ces humbles fleurs,
\nJouis en paix de ta conqu\u00eate,
\nEt n\u2019exige pas qu\u2019une t\u00eate
\nTombe avec chacun de tes pleurs !<\/p>\n
Ne songe plus qu\u2019aux frais platanes,
\nAu bain m\u00eal\u00e9 d\u2019ambre et de nard,
\nAu golfe o\u00f9 glissent les tartanes\u2026
\nIl faut au sultan des sultanes ;
\nIl faut des perles au poignard !<\/p>\n
22 octobre 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":[312],"poems-book":[311],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-4339","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-312","poems-book-les-orientales","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n