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.]