UN COUP DE DÉS

                            JAMAIS

                                                                                                           QUAND BIEN MÊME LANCÉ DANS DES CIRCONSTANCES
                                                                                                       ÉTERNELLES
                                                                                                                  DU FOND D’UN NAUFRAGE

           SOIT
                 que
             l’Abîme
              blanchi
         étale
     furieux
               sous une inclinaison
      plane désespérément
     d’aile
        la sienne
                                                                                                        par avance retombée d’un mal à dresser le vol
                                                                                                    et couvrant les jaillissements
                                                                                                                coupant au ras les bonds
                                                                                                                          très à l’intérieur résume
                                                                                                                            l’ombre enfouie dans la profondeur par cette voile alternative
                                                                                                                jusqu’adapter
                                                                                                                 à l’envergure
                                                                                                              sa béante profondeur en tant que la coque
                                                                                                                   d’un bâtiment
                                                                                                                    penché de l’un ou l’autre bord

              LE MAÎTRE
                surgi
                                                                                                            hors d’anciens calculs
 inférant
                                                                                                                        où la manœuvre avec l’âge oubliée
                                                                                                                      jadis il empoignait la barre
  de cette conflagration à ses pieds
                                                                                                             de l’horizon unanime
                         que se prépare
                                                                                                                      s’agite et mêle
                                                                                                            au poing qui l’étreindrait
 comme on menace un destin et les vents
              l’unique Nombre qui ne peut pas être un autre
                                                                                                           Esprit
                                                                                                                    pour le jeter
                                                                                                           dans la tempête
                                                                                                    en reployer la division et passer fier
 hésite
         cadavre par le bras écarté du secret qu’il détient
                        plutôt
         que de jouer
   en maniaque chenu
                         la partie
          au nom des flots
                                                                                                                            un envahit le chef
                                                                                                               coule en barbe soumise
              naufrage cela direct de l’homme
                                                                                                                          sans nef
                                                                                                                n’importe
                                                                                                                  où vaine

          ancestralement à n’ouvrir pas la main
                  crispée
           par-delà l’inutile tête
                        legs en la disparition
 à quelqu’un
                        ambigu
                 l’ultérieur démon immémorial
             ayant
                         de contrées nulles
                         induit
                  le vieillard vers cette conjonction suprême avec la probabilité
           celui
          son ombre puérile
                 caressée et polie et rendue et lavée
            assouplie par la vague et soustraite
aux durs os perdus entre les ais
        né
            d’un ébat
    la mer par l’aïeul tentant ou l’aïeul contre la mer
 une chance oiseuse
              Fiançailles
                         dont
                     le voile d’illusion rejailli leur hantise
   ainsi que le fantôme d’un geste
 chancellera
                         s’affalera
           folie

                              N’ABOLIRA

              COMME SI
       Une insinuation simple
                         au silence enroulée avec ironie
                                                                                                        ou
                                                                                                                      le mystère
                                                                                                       précipité
                                                                                                          hurlé
             dans quelque proche tourbillon d’hilarité et d’horreur
                     voltige autour du gouffre
                                                                                                                             sans le joncher
                                                                                                                 ni fuir
                                                                                                                 et en berce le vierge indice
                                                                                                                   COMME SI

                    plume solitaire éperdue
                                                                                                             sauf que la rencontre ou l’effleure une toque de minuit
                                                                                                           et immobilise
                                                                                                             au velours chiffonné par un esclaffement sombre
                                                                                                     cette blancheur rigide
                                                                                                                       dérisoire
                                                                                                                en opposition au ciel
                                                                                                                            trop
                                                                                                                             pour ne pas marquer
                                                                                                                   exigüment
                                                                                                                 quiconque
                                                                                                          prince amer de l’écueil
                                                                                                                           s’en coiffe comme de l’héroïque
                                                                                                                   irrésistible mais contenu
                                                                                                                par sa petite raison virile
                                                                                                                     en foudre

soucieux
             expiatoire et pubère
      muet
                                                                                                                         rire
                                                                                                                    que
                                                                                                                          SI
      La lucide et seigneuriale aigrette de vertige
               au front invisible
                        scintille
puis ombrage
                 une stature mignonne ténébreuse debout
   en sa torsion de sirène
                                                                                                              le temps
                                                                                                     de souffleter
       par d’impatientes squames ultimes bifurquées
                                                                                                               un roc
                                                                                                       faux manoir
                                                                                                                           tout de suite
                                                                                                     évaporé en brumes
                                                                                                                   qui imposa
                                                                                                                             une borne à l’infini

   C'ÉTAIT
     issu stellaire LE NOMBRE
                                                                                                              EXISTÂT-IL
                                                                                                                         autrement qu’hallucination éparse d’agonie
                                                                                                                     COMMENÇÂT-IL ET CESSÂT-IL
                                                                                                                     sourdant que nié et clos quand apparu
                                                                                                     enfin
                                                                                                                        par quelque profusion répandue en rareté
                                                                                                                          SE CHIFFRÂT-IL
                                                                                                         évidence de la somme pour peu qu’une
                                                                                                              ILLUMINÂT-IL
                    CE SERAIT
          pire
   non
davantage ni moins
 indifféremment mais autant

                          LE HASARD

                                                                                                               Choit
                                                                                                                            la plume
                                                                                                                            rythmique suspens du sinistre
                                                                                                                  s’ensevelir
                                                                                                                            aux écumes orginelles
                                                                                                           naguères d’où sursauta son délire jusqu’à une cime
                                                                                                                           flétrie
                                                                                                                          par la neutralité identique du gouffre

           RIEN
                      de la mémorable crise
         ou se fût
   l’évènement accompli en vue de tout résultat nul
                                                                                                                  humain
                                                                                                                       N’AURA EU LIEU
                                                                                                                une élévation ordinaire verse l’absence
                                                                                                                         QUE LE LIEU
                                                                                                                     inférieur clapotis quelconque comme pour disperser l’acte vide
                                                                                                                        abruptement qui sinon
                                                                                                                            par son mensonge
                                                                                                            eût fondé
                                                                                                                       la perdition
                                                                                                      dans ces parages
                                                                                                        du vague
                                                                                                                     en quoi toute réalité se dissout

 EXCEPTÉ
       à l’altitude
                PEUT-ÊTRE
    aussi loin qu’un endroit fusionne avec au-delà
                                                                                                                            hors l’intérêt
                                                                                                                    quant à lui signalé
                                                                                                            en général
                                                                                                                  selon telle obliquité par telle déclivité
                                                                                                       de feux
                                                                                                                   vers
                                                                                                                       ce doit être
                                                                                                                    le Septentrion aussi Nord
                                                                                                                UNE CONSTELLATION
                                                                                                            froide d’oubli et de désuétude
                                                                                                                         pas tant
                                                                                                     qu’elle n’énumère
                                                                                                              sur quelque surface vacante et supérieure
                                                                                                                           le heurt successif
                                                                                                                  sidéralement
                                                                                                                         d’un compte total en formation
                                                                                                             veillant
                                                                                                      doutant
                                                                                                                       roulant
                                                                                                                 brillant et méditant
                                                                                                              avant de s’arrêter
                                                                                                                        à quelque point dernier qui le sacre
                                                                                                                      Toute Pensée émet un Coup de Dés



[Stéphane Mallarmé, poème paru en 1897 dans la revue Cosmopolis puis publié en 1914 dans La Nouvelle Revue Française.]