\u00c0 M\u00c9RANTE.<\/p>\n
Ami, tu me dis : \u2014 \u00ab Joie extr\u00eame !
\nDonc, ce matin, comblant ton v\u0153u,
\nRougissante, elle a dit : Je t\u2019aime !
\nDevant l\u2019aube, cet autre aveu.<\/p>\n
\u00ab Ta victoire, tu la d\u00e9voiles.
\nOn t\u2019aime, \u00f4 L\u00e9andre, \u00f4 Saint-Preux,
\nEt te voil\u00e0 dans les \u00e9toiles,
\nSans parachute, malheureux ! \u00bb<\/p>\n
Et tu souris. Mais que m\u2019importe ?
\nTon sourire est un envieux.
\nSois gai ; moi, ma tristesse est morte.
\nRire c\u2019est bien, aimer c\u2019est mieux.<\/p>\n
Tu me croyais plus fort en th\u00e8me,
\nN\u2019est-ce pas ? tu te figurais
\nQue je te dirais : Elle m\u2019aime,
\nD\u00e9fions-nous, et buvons frais.<\/p>\n
Point. J\u2019ai des mani\u00e8res \u00e9tranges ;
\nOn fait mon bonheur, j\u2019y consens ;
\nJe vois l\u00e0-haut passer les anges
\nEt je me m\u00eale \u00e0 ces passants.<\/p>\n
Je suis ing\u00e9nu comme Hom\u00e8re,
\nQuand cet aveugle aux chants b\u00e9nis
\nAdorait la mouche \u00e9ph\u00e9m\u00e8re
\nQui sort des joncs de l\u2019Hypanis.<\/p>\n
J\u2019ai la foi. Mon esprit facile
\nD\u00e8s le premier jour constata
\nDans la Sologne une Sicile,
\nUne Ar\u00e9thuse en Rosita.<\/p>\n
Je ne vois point dans une femme
\nUn filou, par l\u2019ombre enhardi.
\nJe ne crois pas qu\u2019on prenne une \u00e2me
\nComme on vole un marav\u00e9di.<\/p>\n
La supposer fausse, et pl\u00e2tr\u00e9e,
\nNon, justes dieux ! je suis \u00e9pris.
\nJe ne commence point l\u2019entr\u00e9e
\nAu paradis, par le m\u00e9pris.<\/p>\n
Je lui donne un c\u0153ur sans lui dire :
\nRends-moi la monnaie ! \u2014 Et je crois
\n\u00c0 sa pudeur, \u00e0 mon d\u00e9lire,
\nAu bleu du ciel, aux fleurs des bois.<\/p>\n
J\u2019entre en des sph\u00e8res id\u00e9ales
\nSans fredonner le vieux pont-neuf
\nDe Villon aux piliers des Halles
\nEt de Fronsac \u00e0 l\u2019\u0152il-de-B\u0153uf.<\/p>\n
Je m\u2019enivre des harmonies
\nQui, de l\u2019azur, \u00e0 chaque pas,
\nM\u2019arrivent, claires, infinies,
\nJoyeuses, et je ne crois pas<\/p>\n
Que l\u2019amour trompe nos attentes,
\nQu\u2019un bien-aim\u00e9 soit un martyr,
\nEt que toutes ces voix chantantes
\nDescendent du ciel pour mentir.<\/p>\n
Je suis rempli d\u2019une musique ;
\nJe ne sens point, dans mes halliers,
\nLa d\u00e9sillusion classique
\nDes vieillards et des \u00e9coliers.<\/p>\n
J\u2019\u00e9coute en moi l\u2019hymne supr\u00eame
\nDe mille instruments triomphaux,
\nQui tous r\u00e9p\u00e8tent qu\u2019elle m\u2019aime,
\nEt dont pas un ne chante faux.<\/p>\n
Oui, je t\u2019adore ! oui, tu m\u2019adores !
\nC\u2019est \u00e0 ces mots-l\u00e0 que sont dus
\nTous ces vagues clairons sonores
\nDans un bruit de songe entendus.<\/p>\n
Et, dans les grands bois qui m\u2019entourent,
\nJe vois danser, d\u2019un air vainqueur,
\nLes Cupidons, gamins qui courent
\nDevant la fanfare du c\u0153ur.<\/p>\n
12 ao\u00fbt.<\/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":[333],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-9541","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-463","poems-book-les-chansons-des-rues-et-des-bois","poemes-theme-amitie","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n