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.]