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.]