{"id":9056,"date":"2025-04-17T11:30:21","date_gmt":"2025-04-17T09:30:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rimes.fr\/blog\/?post_type=poemes&p=9056"},"modified":"2025-04-17T11:30:21","modified_gmt":"2025-04-17T09:30:21","slug":"a-un-martyr","status":"publish","type":"poemes","link":"https:\/\/www.rimes.fr\/blog\/poemes\/a-un-martyr\/","title":{"rendered":"\u00c0 un martyr"},"content":{"rendered":"

I<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00d4 saint pr\u00eatre ! grande \u00e2me ! oh ! je tombe \u00e0 genoux !
\nJeune, il avait encor de longs jours parmi nous,
\n\ufeffIl n\u2019en a pas compt\u00e9 le nombre ;
\nIl \u00e9tait \u00e0 cet \u00e2ge o\u00f9 le bonheur fleurit ;
\nIl a consid\u00e9r\u00e9 la croix de J\u00e9sus-Christ
\n\ufeffToute rayonnante dans l\u2019ombre.<\/p>\n

Il a dit : \u00ab C\u2019est le Dieu de progr\u00e8s et d\u2019amour.
\nJ\u00e9sus, qui voit ton front, croit voir le front du jour.
\n\ufeffChrist sourit \u00e0 qui le repousse.
\nPuisqu\u2019il est mort pour nous, je veux mourir pour lui ;
\nDans son tombeau, dont j\u2019ai la pierre pour appui,
\n\ufeffIl m\u2019appelle d\u2019une voix douce.<\/p>\n

\u00bb Sa doctrine est le ciel entr\u2019ouvert ; par la main,
\nComme un p\u00e8re l\u2019enfant, il tient le genre humain ;
\n\ufeffPar lui nous vivons et nous sommes ;
\nAu chevet des ge\u00f4liers dormant dans leurs maisons,
\nIl d\u00e9robe les clefs de toutes les prisons
\n\ufeffEt met en libert\u00e9 les hommes.<\/p>\n

\u00bb Or il est, loin de nous, une autre humanit\u00e9
\nQui ne le conna\u00eet point, et dans l\u2019iniquit\u00e9
\n\ufeffRampe encha\u00een\u00e9e, et souffre et tombe ;
\nIls font pour trouver Dieu de t\u00e9n\u00e9breux efforts ;
\nIls s\u2019agitent en vain ; ils sont comme des morts
\n\ufeffQui t\u00e2tent le mur de leur tombe.<\/p>\n

\u00bb Sans loi, sans but, sans guide, ils errent ici-bas.
\nIls sont m\u00e9chants, \u00e9tant ignorants ; ils n\u2019ont pas
\n\ufeffLeur part de la grande conqu\u00eate.
\nJ\u2019irai. Pour les sauver je quitte le saint lieu.
\n\u00d4 mes fr\u00e8res, je viens vous apporter mon Dieu ;
\n\ufeffJe viens vous apporter ma t\u00eate ! \u00bb \u2014<\/p>\n

Pr\u00eatre, il s\u2019est souvenu, calme en nos jours troubl\u00e9s,
\nDe la parole dite aux ap\u00f4tres : \u2014 Allez,
\n\ufeffBravez les b\u00fbchers et les claies !
\nEt de l\u2019adieu du Christ au supr\u00eame moment :
\n\u2014 \u00d4 vivant, aimez-vous ! aimez. En vous aimant,
\n\ufeffFr\u00e8res, vous fermerez mes plaies. \u2014<\/p>\n

Il s\u2019est dit qu\u2019il est bon d\u2019\u00e9clairer dans leur nuit
\nCes peuples, \u00e9gar\u00e9s loin du progr\u00e8s qui luit,
\n\ufeffDont l\u2019\u00e2me est couverte de voiles ;
\nPuis il s\u2019en est all\u00e9, dans les vents, dans les flots,
\nVers les noirs chevalets et les sanglants billots,
\n\ufeffLes yeux fix\u00e9s sur les \u00e9toiles.<\/p>\n

II<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ceux vers qui cet ap\u00f4tre allait l\u2019ont \u00e9gorg\u00e9.<\/p>\n

III<\/strong><\/p>\n

Oh ! tandis que l\u00e0-bas, h\u00e9las ! chez ces barbares,
\nS\u2019\u00e9tale l\u2019\u00e9chafaud de tes membres charg\u00e9,
\nQue le bourreau, rangeant ses glaives et ses barres,
\nFrotte au gibet son ongle o\u00f9 ton sang s\u2019est fig\u00e9 ;<\/p>\n

Ciel ! tandis que les chiens dans ce sang viennent boire,
\nEt que la mouche horrible, essaim au vol joyeux,
\nComme dans une ruche entre en ta bouche noire
\nEt bourdonne au soleil dans les trous de tes yeux ;<\/p>\n

Tandis qu\u2019\u00e9chevel\u00e9e, et sans voix, sans paupi\u00e8res,
\nTa t\u00eate bl\u00eame est l\u00e0 sur un inf\u00e2me pieu,
\nLivr\u00e9e aux vils affronts, meurtrie \u00e0 coups de pierres,
\nIci, derri\u00e8re toi, martyr, on vend ton Dieu !<\/p>\n

Ce Dieu qui n\u2019est qu\u2019\u00e0 toi, martyr, on te le vole !
\nOn le livre \u00e0 Mandrin, ce Dieu pour qui tu meurs !
\nDes hommes, comme toi rev\u00eatus de l\u2019\u00e9tole,
\nPour \u00eatre cardinaux, pour \u00eatre s\u00e9nateurs,<\/p>\n

Des pr\u00eatres, pour avoir des palais, des carrosses,
\nEt des jardins, l\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9, riant sous le ciel bleu,
\nPour argenter leur mitre et pour dorer leurs crosses,
\nPour boire de bon vin, assis pr\u00e8s d\u2019un bon feu,<\/p>\n

Au forban dont la main dans le meurtre est tremp\u00e9e,
\nAu larron charg\u00e9 d\u2019or qui paye et qui sourit,
\nGrand Dieu ! retourne-toi vers nous, t\u00eate coup\u00e9e !
\nIls vendent J\u00e9sus-Christ ! ils vendent J\u00e9sus-Christ !<\/p>\n

Ils livrent au bandit, pour quelques sacs sordides,
\nL\u2019\u00e9vangile, la loi, l\u2019autel \u00e9pouvant\u00e9,
\nEt la justice aux yeux s\u00e9v\u00e8res et candides,
\nEt l\u2019\u00e9toile du c\u0153ur humain, la v\u00e9rit\u00e9 !<\/p>\n

Les bons jet\u00e9s vivants au bagne, ou morts aux fleuves,
\nL\u2019homme juste proscrit par Cartouche Sylla,
\nL\u2019innocent \u00e9gorg\u00e9, le deuil sacr\u00e9 des veuves,
\nLes pleurs de l\u2019orphelin, ils vendent tout cela !<\/p>\n

Tout ! la foi, le serment que Dieu tient sous sa garde,
\nLe saint temple o\u00f9, mourant, tu dis : Intro\u00efbo,
\nIls livrent tout ! pudeur, vertu ! \u2014 martyr, regarde,
\nRouvre tes yeux qu\u2019emplit la lueur du tombeau ; \u2014<\/p>\n

Ils vendent l\u2019arche auguste o\u00f9 l\u2019hostie \u00e9tincelle !
\nIls vendent Christ, te dis-je ! et ses membres li\u00e9s !
\nIls vendent la sueur qui sur son front ruisselle,
\nEt les clous de ses mains, et les clous de ses pieds !<\/p>\n

Ils vendent au brigand qui chez lui les attire
\nLe grand crucifi\u00e9 sur les hommes pench\u00e9 ;
\nIls vendent sa parole, ils vendent son martyre,
\nEt ton martyre \u00e0 toi par-dessus le march\u00e9 !<\/p>\n

Tant pour les coups de fouet qu\u2019il re\u00e7ut \u00e0 la porte !
\nC\u00e9sar ! tant pour l\u2019amen ! tant pour l\u2019alleluia !
\nTant pour la pierre o\u00f9 vint heurter sa t\u00eate morte !
\nTant pour le drap rougi que sa barbe essuya !<\/p>\n

Ils vendent ses genoux meurtris, sa palme verte,
\nSa plaie au flanc, son \u0153il tout baign\u00e9 d\u2019infini,
\nSes pleurs, son agonie, et sa bouche entr\u2019ouverte,
\nEt le cri qu\u2019il poussa : Lamma Sabacthani !<\/p>\n

Ils vendent le s\u00e9pulcre ! ils vendent les t\u00e9n\u00e8bres !
\nLes s\u00e9raphins chantant au seuil profond des cieux,
\nEt la m\u00e8re debout sous l\u2019arbre aux bras fun\u00e8bres,
\nQui, sentant l\u00e0 son fils, ne levait pas les yeux !<\/p>\n

Oui, ces \u00e9v\u00eaques, oui, ces marchands, oui, ces pr\u00eatres,
\n\u00c0 l\u2019histrion du crime, assouvi, couronn\u00e9,
\n\u00c0 ce N\u00e9ron repu qui rit parmi les tra\u00eetres,
\nUn pied sur Thras\u00e9as, un coude sur Phryn\u00e9,<\/p>\n

Au voleur qui tua les lois \u00e0 coups de crosse,
\nAu pirate empereur Napol\u00e9on dernier,
\nIvre deux fois, immonde encor plus que f\u00e9roce,
\nPourceau dans le cloaque et loup dans le charnier,<\/p>\n

Ils vendent, \u00f4 martyr, le Dieu pensif et p\u00e2le
\nQui, debout sur la terre et sous le firmament,
\nTriste et nous souriant dans notre nuit fatale,
\nSur le noir Golgotha saigne \u00e9ternellement.<\/p>\n

Jersey, d\u00e9cembre 1852.<\/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 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