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.]