Sachez qu\u2019hier, de ma lucarne,
\nJ\u2019ai vu, j\u2019ai couvert de clins d\u2019yeux
\nUne fille qui dans la Marne
\nLavait des torchons radieux.<\/p>\n
Pr\u00e8s d\u2019un vieux pont, dans les saul\u00e9es.
\nElle lavait, allait, venait ;
\nL\u2019aube et la brise \u00e9taient m\u00eal\u00e9es
\n\u00c0 la gr\u00e2ce de son bonnet.<\/p>\n
Je la voyais de loin. Sa mante
\nL\u2019entourait de plis palpitants.
\nAux folles broussailles qu\u2019augmente
\nL\u2019intemp\u00e9rance du printemps.<\/p>\n
Aux buissons que le vent soul\u00e8ve,
\nQue juin et mai, frais barbouilleurs,
\nFoulant la cuve de la s\u00e8ve,
\nCouvrent d\u2019une \u00e9cume de fleurs,<\/p>\n
Aux sureaux pleins de mouches sombres,
\nAux gen\u00eats du bord, tous divers,
\nAux joncs \u00e9chevelant leurs ombres
\nDans la lumi\u00e8re des flots verts,<\/p>\n
Elle accrochait des loques blanches,
\nJe ne sais quels haillons charmants
\nQui me jetaient, parmi les branches,
\nDe profonds \u00e9blouissements.<\/p>\n
Ces nippes, dans l\u2019aube dor\u00e9e,
\nSemblaient, sous l\u2019aulne et le bouleau,
\nLes blancs cygnes de Cyth\u00e9r\u00e9e
\nBattant de l\u2019aile au bord de l\u2019eau.<\/p>\n
Des cupidons, fra\u00eeche couv\u00e9e,
\nMe montraient son pied fait au tour ;
\nSa jupe semblait relev\u00e9e
\nPar le petit doigt de l\u2019amour.<\/p>\n
On voyait, je vous le d\u00e9clare,
\nUn peu plus haut que le genou,
\nSous un pampre un vieux faune hilare
\nMurmurait tout bas : Casse-cou !<\/p>\n
Je quittai ma chambre d\u2019auberge,
\nEn souriant comme un bandit ;
\nEt je descendis sur la berge
\nQu\u2019une herbe, glissante, verdit.<\/p>\n
Je pris un air incendiaire,
\nJe m\u2019adossai contre un pilier,
\nEt je lui dis : \u2014 \u00ab \u00d4 lavandi\u00e8re !
\n(Blanchisseuse \u00e9tant familier)<\/p>\n
\u00ab L\u2019oiseau gazouille, l\u2019agneau b\u00eale,
\nGloire \u00e0 ce rivage \u00e9cart\u00e9 !
\nLavandi\u00e8re, vous \u00eates belle.
\nVotre rire est de la clart\u00e9.<\/p>\n
\u00ab Je suis capable de faiblesses.
\n\u00d4 lavandi\u00e8re, quel beau jour !
\nLes fauvettes sont des dr\u00f4lesses
\nQui chantent des chansons d\u2019amour.
\n110
\nLES CHANSONS DES RUES ET DES BOIS.<\/p>\n
\u00ab Voil\u00e0 six mille ans que les roses
\nConseillent, en se prodiguant,
\nL\u2019amour aux c\u0153urs les plus moroses.
\nAvril est un vieil intrigant.<\/p>\n
\u00ab Les rois sont ceux qu\u2019adorent celles
\nQui sont charmantes comme vous ;
\nLa Marne est pleine d\u2019\u00e9tincelles ;
\nFemme, le ciel immense est doux.<\/p>\n
\u00ab \u00d4 laveuse \u00e0 la taille mince,
\nQui vous aime est dans un palais.
\nSi vous vouliez, je serais prince ;
\nJe serais dieu, si tu voulais. \u00bb \u2014<\/p>\n
La blanchisseuse, gaie et tendre,
\nSourit, et, dans le hameau noir,
\nSa m\u00e8re au loin cessa d\u2019entendre
\nLe bruit vertueux du battoir.<\/p>\n
Les vieillards grondent et reprochent,
\nMais, \u00f4 jeunesse ! il faut oser.
\nDeux sourires qui se rapprochent
\nFinissent par faire un baiser.<\/p>\n
Je m\u2019arr\u00eate. L\u2019idylle est douce,
\nMais ne veut pas, je vous le dis,
\nQu\u2019au del\u00e0 du baiser on pousse
\nLa peinture du paradis.<\/p>\n
27 septembre.<\/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":[463],"poems-book":[445],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-9525","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-463","poems-book-les-chansons-des-rues-et-des-bois","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n