{"id":154,"date":"2009-05-17T17:03:00","date_gmt":"2009-05-17T15:03:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/revuepolaire.com\/?p=154"},"modified":"2023-08-03T17:05:38","modified_gmt":"2023-08-03T15:05:38","slug":"trois-poemes-du-clair-de-louvert","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/revuepolaire.com\/index.php\/2009\/05\/17\/trois-poemes-du-clair-de-louvert\/","title":{"rendered":"Trois po\u00e8mes du clair & de l\u2019ouvert"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

LE LI\u00c8VRE
<\/strong>
Je suis le li\u00e8vre \u00e0 l\u2019arr\u00eat,
oreilles dress\u00e9es, immobile\u2026
celui dont les chasseurs disent :

\u2014 J\u2019ai rencontr\u00e9 un homme.
Je suis le li\u00e8vre \u00e0 l\u2019arr\u00eat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je suis le li\u00e8vre,
oreilles dress\u00e9es, tout \u00e9veil,
chass\u00e9 de son g\u00eete o\u00f9 il songeait vain
pour penser le monde, pour en \u00eatre
l\u2019\u00e2me errante rapide comme l\u2019\u00e9clair,
l\u2019\u00e9clair bondissant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

J\u2019habite le vent,
les fr\u00e9missements de l\u2019air et des sons\u2026
Je suis trop rapide encore pour
le chasseur qui prom\u00e8ne sa digestion m\u00eal\u00e9e \u00e0
son d\u00e9sir de mort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je suis nerfs et os. Je suis \u00e9lan.
Je suis ressort de viande sauvage
qui oublie son corps pour n\u2019\u00eatre que du sang qui bat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je suis vitesse arr\u00eat\u00e9e qui se lib\u00e8re
au premier geste de la Mort
pour habiter l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9
tangible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[12-13 \/ V \/ 09]<\/small><\/p>\n\n\n\n

*
<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

LE CLAIR & L\u2019OUVERT
<\/strong>
Partout, j\u2019habite.
Partout, je trouve demeure et
passage.
Il n\u2019est pour moi rien de ferm\u00e9 ni d\u2019obscur
que je ne veuille qu\u2019il le soit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je n\u2019ai pas le go\u00fbt du malheur.
Si j\u2019ai du talent pour durer sous le malheur, sous la rude loi du malheur, je n\u2019ai pas go\u00fbt pour le malheur : j\u2019y suis rebelle. Je suis frondeur, et ma r\u00e9volte, ma r\u00e9bellion est toujours celle du bonheur, de son insurrection qui installe\u2026
la paix au c\u0153ur de la guerre,
l\u2019ordre calme au c\u0153ur du chaos,
le silence au c\u0153ur du bruit,
et, le jour au c\u0153ur de la nuit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je suis un b\u00e2tisseur de vitre avec des mots.
J\u2019ai toujours du soleil dans mes vitraux pour faire flamber les couleurs
dont je me d\u00e9lecte,
et dont je veux parer la vie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On ne peut me priver d\u2019\u00e9lever vers le ciel, murs de lumi\u00e8re, ces fen\u00eatres \u00e9lanc\u00e9es, ces ogives de feu, tel un orgue, d\u2019en ouvrir les vantaux quand il me pla\u00eet, d\u00e8s qu\u2019il me pla\u00eet, pour faire courant d\u2019air entre l\u2019ici-bas et l\u2019en-haut\u2026
d\u2019en ouvrir les vantaux flamboyants pour marier la musique des sph\u00e8res que je per\u00e7ois avec la musique des mots que je re\u00e7ois.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Le d\u00e9sordre ne m\u2019atteint pas.
J\u2019y b\u00e2tis ma nef, inlassable :

\u2014 Dieu est toujours \u00e0 l\u2019\u0153uvre dans les agissements du Diable,
pass\u00e9 un certain seuil.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[17 \/ V \/ 09]<\/small><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*
<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

L\u2019INATTEIGNABLE
<\/strong>
Ne cherchez pas \u00e0 me nuire : vous n\u2019y parviendrez pas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

J\u2019ai trop de morts autour de moi qui vous dissolvent, vous dissipent.
C\u2019est un rideau d\u2019amour qui m\u2019environne, dilu\u00e9 d\u2019air et de soleil, qui repousse la nuit sans cesse pour recr\u00e9er la vie, plus belle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Vous n\u2019entrerez pas dans ce cercle : il faut vous avouer vaincus, vaincus d\u2019avance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

J\u2019ai mille ans, d\u00e9sormais, une \u00e9ternit\u00e9 de bonheur d\u2019avance sur tout ce qui pourrait me faire mal, \u00f4 mal encore !<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Plus rien ne me d\u00e9truit, et tout me construit \u00e0 la longue.
Mon bonheur est un chantier merveilleux et inatteignable.
Ma forteresse est b\u00e2tie des c\u0153urs de pierre jadis crois\u00e9s, jointoy\u00e9s, ciment\u00e9s par la haine qu\u2019ils m\u2019ont vou\u00e9e : vous ne glisseriez pas la moindre lame entre eux car leur nombre aujourd\u2019hui fait unit\u00e9 parfaite\u2026
et, j\u2019ai ouvert ces murs de fen\u00eatres, de fen\u00eatre hautes, b\u00e9antes sur le ciel, que rien ne saurait occulter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[17 \/ V \/ 09]<\/small><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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