L\u2019ombre ici-bas la moins transparente, c\u2019est l\u2019\u00e2me.<\/p>\n
L\u2019homme est l\u2019\u00e9nigme \u00e9trange et triste de la femme,
\nEt la femme est le sphinx de l\u2019homme. Sombre loi !
\nPersonne ne conna\u00eet mon gouffre, except\u00e9 moi.
\nEt moi-m\u00eame, ai-je \u00e9t\u00e9 jusqu\u2019au fond ? Mon ab\u00eeme
\nEst sinistre, surtout par le c\u00f4t\u00e9 sublime ;
\nEt l\u2019hydre est l\u00e0, tenant mon \u00e2me, et la mordant.
\nToutes nos passions sont des b\u00eates r\u00f4dant
\nDans la lividit\u00e9 des bl\u00eames cr\u00e9puscules.
\nL\u2019homme le plus semblable aux antiques Hercules,
\n\u00c9gal par sa stature aux noirs \u00e9v\u00e9nements,
\nQui dompte la fortune en ses poings incl\u00e9ments,
\nEt fait au sort jaloux l\u2019effet d\u2019un belluaire,
\nCet homme, s\u2019il rencontre une femme, veut plaire,
\nTombe \u00e0 genoux, adore et tremble, et ce vainqueur
\nDu destin est toujours le vaincu de son c\u0153ur.<\/p>\n
Tout nous ment ! l\u2019\u00e2tre est noir, la patrie est ingrate.
\nPr\u00eatre, pense \u00e0 J\u00e9sus ; juge, pense \u00e0 Socrate.
\nL\u2019homme rend la justice ainsi qu\u2019il joue aux d\u00e9s.
\nQuand, tour \u00e0 tour, et l\u2019un apr\u00e8s l\u2019autre, accoud\u00e9s
\nAu m\u00eame livre, on a tourn\u00e9 les m\u00eames pages,
\nOn meurt. Qu\u2019est-ce que c\u2019est que vos ar\u00e9opages,
\nConciles et s\u00e9nats, conclaves et divans ?<\/p>\n
Le po\u00e8te appara\u00eet au milieu des vivants,
\nEt, lapid\u00e9, s\u2019en va de la terre fatale,
\nLaissant derri\u00e8re lui, comme une trace p\u00e2le,
\nL\u2019\u00e9ternelle beaut\u00e9 du vers myst\u00e9rieux.
\nL\u2019homme qui l\u2019insulta le met au rang des dieux.
\nEt puis ? Un autre esprit vient. L\u2019homme recommence.
\nTout est aveuglement quand tout n\u2019est pas d\u00e9mence ;
\nLe ciel splendide est plein de la noirceur du sort ;
\nOn entre dans la vie en criant ; on en sort
\nRuisselant, nu, glac\u00e9, comme d\u2019une tourmente.
\nH\u00e9las ! l\u2019enfant sanglote et l\u2019homme se lamente ;
\nIgnorer, c\u2019est pleurer, et savoir, c\u2019est g\u00e9mir.<\/p>\n
Je pense \u00e0 tout cela quand je ne puis dormir,
\nLa nuit, quand le vent semble une voix qui t\u00e9moigne,
\nQuand on entend le pas de quelqu\u2019un qui s\u2019\u00e9loigne.<\/p>\n
16 janvier 1874.<\/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-9900","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-459","poems-book-les-quatre-vents-de-lesprit","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n