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.]