J\u2019ai vu l\u2019Inde ; je plains le morne tchand\u00e2la ;
\nUn homme fraternel jamais ne lui parla ;
\nSa soif ternit le fleuve ; et devant son martyre
\nLa cabane se ferme et la main se retire ;
\nIl est le r\u00e9prouv\u00e9 de l\u2019eau, du pain, du seuil ;
\nOn dirait que le feu, l\u2019air et la terre en deuil
\nLe chassent, que le champ le hait, que la mati\u00e8re
\nLe repousse et se tient hors de lui tout enti\u00e8re ;
\nIl est celui que nul n\u2019abrite et ne re\u00e7oit.
\nMais du moins, tel qu\u2019il est, h\u00e9las ! et, quel qu\u2019il soit,
\nIl voit le jour de tous et son \u00e2me lui reste ;
\nEt, quoiqu\u2019on ait jet\u00e9 sur sa t\u00eate funeste
\nLa l\u00e8pre et son d\u00e9go\u00fbt, la peste et son charbon,
\nNon, il n\u2019est pas maudit, puisqu\u2019il peut \u00eatre bon.<\/p>\n
Et maintenant voyez celui-ci. La justice
\nResplendit ; non pour lui. Que l\u2019erreur l\u2019abrutisse !
\nIl est roi. Le progr\u00e8s, lumineux et vivant,
\nPour tout le genre humain \u00e9cl\u00f4t, soleil levant ;
\nLui ne le verra pas. Chacun peut dans sa course,
\nBoire \u00e0 la v\u00e9rit\u00e9, la grande et chaste source ;
\nLui seul, sombre alt\u00e9r\u00e9, n\u2019en approchera point.
\nLe mot qu\u2019on dit, le pas qu\u2019on fait, le jour qui point,
\nN\u2019existent pas pour lui ; son oreille est de pierre ;
\nPas un rayon r\u00e9el n\u2019avertit sa paupi\u00e8re ;
\nIl semble que le sort n\u2019ait pas d\u2019autre int\u00e9r\u00eat
\nQue de le perdre ainsi qu\u2019une horrible for\u00eat ;
\nOn lui cr\u00e9e, en dehors de tous les autres hommes,
\nL\u2019impossibilit\u00e9 d\u2019\u00eatre ce que nous sommes ;
\nSans guide en son d\u00e9sert, et n\u2019ayant \u00e0 choisir
\nQue du crime en cette ombre o\u00f9 rampe son d\u00e9sir,
\n\u00c2me aux vils app\u00e9tits du ventre coutumi\u00e8re,
\nHors de toute science et de toute lumi\u00e8re,
\nBanni de la raison et de la v\u00e9rit\u00e9,
\nDans la prodigieuse et folle obscurit\u00e9
\nQu\u2019il rend en y passant plus lamentable encore,
\nIl erre, paria sinistre de l\u2019aurore.<\/p>\n
Et de ces deux damn\u00e9s, dis, lequel plaindras-tu ?
\nL\u2019un est hors du bonheur, l\u2019autre, de la vertu.
\nQuel est le plus fatal et le plus solitaire,
\nDis, l\u2019homme qui n\u2019a pas sa part de pain sur terre,
\nOu l\u2019homme qui n\u2019a pas sa part de v\u00e9rit\u00e9 ?<\/p>\n
Ah ! pleurons sur le roi, ce grand d\u00e9sh\u00e9rit\u00e9 !<\/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":[460],"poems-book":[449],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-9772","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-460","poems-book-la-pitie-supreme","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n