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.]