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.]