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.]