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.]