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.]