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.]