L\u2019HABIT R\u00c2P\u00c9<\/p>\n
Vivent les bas de soie et les souliers vernis !<\/p>\n
LA CHAISE D\u00c9PAILL\u00c9E<\/p>\n
Dieu dit aux bons fauteuils : fauteuils, je vous b\u00e9nis !<\/p>\n
LE PO\u00caLE FROID<\/p>\n
Comme un grand feu qui flambe et p\u00e9tille en d\u00e9cembre
\nVous illumine l\u2019\u00e2me en empourprant la chambre !<\/p>\n
LE VERRE PLEIN D\u2019EAU<\/p>\n
Ma foi, j\u2019aime le vin.<\/p>\n
LA SOUCOUPE PLEINE DE POUSSI\u00c8RE<\/p>\n
Moi, j\u2019aime le caf\u00e9.<\/p>\n
L\u2019\u00c9CUELLE DE BOIS<\/p>\n
C\u2019est charmant de crier : gar\u00e7on ! Perdreau truff\u00e9,
\nBordeaux retour de l\u2019Inde, et saumon sauce aux hu\u00eetres !<\/p>\n
LE CARREAU CASS\u00c9<\/p>\n
Une fen\u00eatre est belle alors qu\u2019elle a des vitres.<\/p>\n
LE GOUSSET VIDE<\/p>\n
Que l\u2019usurier hideux, poussif, auquel tu dois,
\nAgite un vieux billet de banque en ses vieux doigts,
\nF\u00fbt-il gris comme un chantre et crasseux comme un diacre,
\nV\u00e9nus vient toute nue en sa conque de nacre.<\/p>\n
LE LIT DE SANGLE<\/p>\n
Un \u00e9dredon, c\u2019est doux.<\/p>\n
L\u2019\u00c9CRITOIRE<\/p>\n
Ar\u00e9tin, plein d\u2019esprit,
\nVit content ; sous ses pieds il a quand il \u00e9crit
\nUn charmant tapis turc qui r\u00e9chauffe sa prose.<\/p>\n
LE TROU DE LA SERRURE<\/p>\n
J\u2019estime une porti\u00e8re \u00e9paisse, et, verte ou rose,
\nLaissant voir, dans les plis du satin ouat\u00e9,
\nUn mandarin qui prend une tasse de th\u00e9.<\/p>\n
UN PAPIER TIMBR\u00c9<\/p>\n
Verr\u00e8s est riche et grand ; devant lui nul ne bouge.<\/p>\n
LE MIROIR F\u00caL\u00c9<\/p>\n
Sur un frac brod\u00e9 d\u2019or j\u2019aime un beau cordon rouge.<\/p>\n
L\u2019ESCABEAU BOITEUX<\/p>\n
Quel bonheur de courir \u00e0 la croix de Berny
\nSur quelque ardent cheval plein d\u2019un souffle infini,
\nD\u00e9mon aux crins \u00e9pars n\u00e9 des vents de l\u2019Ukraine !<\/p>\n
LA SEMELLE PERC\u00c9E<\/p>\n
Quelle joie ! En hiver, rouler au Cours-la-Reine,
\nQuand le soleil dissout les brouillards pluvieux,
\nDans un landau qui fait bl\u00eamir les envieux !<\/p>\n
LE PLAFOND TROU\u00c9<\/p>\n
Et, tandis qu\u2019au dehors siffle le vent f\u00e9roce,
\nContempler, \u00e0 travers les glaces du carrosse,
\nLe ciel bleu, rayonnant d\u2019une douce clart\u00e9 !<\/p>\n
LE CIEL BLEU<\/p>\n
Paix ! Comptez vous pour rien cette s\u00e9r\u00e9nit\u00e9
\nDe marcher le front haut, et de se dire : en somme,
\nJe mange du pain noir, mais je suis honn\u00eate homme !<\/p>\n
17 novembre 1853.<\/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":[459],"poems-book":[452],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-9814","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-459","poems-book-les-quatre-vents-de-lesprit","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n