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L'Arbre Amoureux
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TITLE (EDIT)
L'Arbre Amoureux
DESCRIPTION
Quatre po�mes en prose:

L'arbre amoureux.
Le rouge-gorge.
La descente aux enfers.
L'arbre � chandelles.

[French]
[752 words]
AUTHOR
G�rard Ducasse
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
An artist [ poetry, plays, short stories, painting and sculpture].
[June 2014]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (5)
Conte De No�l (Foreign) Conte [French]. [1,050 words]
Florence (Short Stories) A rather banal love story. [762 words]
Le Myst�re De La Lune (Foreign) (Conte mauricien) [French]. [722 words]
L'Homme Clou� (Foreign) Deux �crits de "La maison des Ombres": L'homme clou�. L'homme qui doutait. [704 words]
Pandora's Box (Plays) The play is about the unforeseen hazards of genetic research. [6,896 words]
L'Arbre Amoureux
G�rard Ducasse

L'arbre amoureux

Arbre! � quoi penses-tu au bord de la route?
- je r�ve � la nuit
Arbre! que fais-tu couvert de la poussi�re du chemin?
- j'attend le vent
qui viendra me baigner comme un flot.
 D�j� mes feuilles palpitent, et mon �corce
cass�e, ger��e
 sent les caresses ti�des de la brise qui vient pour me ber�er.
 Mes branches fr�missent
� l'espoir de cette vague
qui m'enveloppe, m'envahit et me sature
 de sa voluptueuse essence,
qui m'attire et m'�tire sur son passage,
jusqu'� ce que je devienne vent,
mes feuilles vive senteur
 mon �corce �cre ti�deur d'�t�.
Les p�tales de mes fleurs glissent subtiles au fil de la brise
 et mon parfum se dissout dans l'air chaud,
danse et vertige.
Arbre! que fais-tu au bord de la nuit?
- Mes bras
envo�t�s par l'encens du ciel
 se tendent, lents et longs, vers sa magie de miel.
Ma s�ve est ensorcel�e
 je ne suis plus qu'une tige qu'aspire l'espace.
Je suis transis d'amour vers la lune,
 mes feuilles aimant�es vers les �toiles.





Le rouge-gorge

Ce matin, en entrant au garage, j'y ai trouv� un rouge-gorge, qui se d�battait contre la vitre illumin�e d'une fen�tre faisant face au soleil levant. Chose �trange! la porte du garage �tait toute grande ouverte, et pourtant l'oiseau s'acharnait et s'ext�nuait contre ce panneau de verre, inond� de lumi�re. Je me suis dit " Voil� l'image m�me de l'artiste".

J'ai pris l'oiseau �ffar� entre mes mains form�es en coupe. Je l'ai apais� en lui disant des paroles douces, comme j'en dis � mes petits malades pour les rassurer. L'oiseau s'est calm�, et je l'ai port�, fragile, dans un petit bosquet derri�re la maison. L�, il a entendu les cris de sa compagne. Brusquement, il s'est envol� pour aller se poser sur la cl�ture. Longuement, il m'a regard�. Que se passait-il dans sa petite cervelle? Il a pouss� un petit cri; puis il s'est envol�. Cher oiseau, cher ami, cher amour.




La descente aux enfers

Les feuilles sont douces et tendres. La lumi�re qu'elles tamisent se r�pand sur notre peau comme une huile bienfaisante. �coutons chanter l'oiseau de feu ! Les dieux sont l�. Chaque feuille cache un dieu; et ce dieu c'est "nous".

Bel oiseau! dont les ailes se frangent de couleurs d'arc- en- ciel, dont l'oeil unique palpite de multiples p�pites d'or, oiseau des nuits, oiseau d'enfer, guide- nous.

Descendons! il fait noir! une lumi�re noire! L'oiseau magique nous pr�c�de, toutes plumes iris�es par cette incandescence noire. Oiseau divin, aux pattes porteuses de la cl� d'or, ouvrez- nous.

Descendons! Bronze, or, ivoire! nous sommes au centre d'un immense vertige. Nous sommes en Dieu et ce Dieu est "nous". C'est notre respiration et le bruit de notre coeur, et puis, ce n'est rien qu'�tre et dilatation, une dilatation immense, des pulsations de lumi�re diaphane, qui sont comme une prolongement de nos sens. Ne parlez pas de la mort. Chantez! cellules harmonieuses de mon corps. chantez et dansez. Notre corps �cartel� sur la roue d'ivoire, qui n'est que l'axe de l'univers, tourne lentement alors que les extr�mit�s de nos doigts et de nos orteils fr�lent les limites du monde.




L�arbre � chandelles

Il y a un arbre v�ritable, que j�ai vu de mes propres yeux, et non en r�ve, et qui me revient � l�esprit avec le flot de mes souvenirs d�enfance. C�est l�arbre � chandelles.

C�est un soir d�hiver. Nous grelottons sous des couvertures amincies. Mes soeurs dorment d�j�. Soudain, une �trange lueur apparait en dehors de la fen�tre de la chambre,
l�, o� pousse un arbre � feuilles palm�es, aussi haut que notre maison. La lueur se pr�cise. De grosses chandelles en cire jaune br�lent , assises dans les fourches des branches. Des flammes toutes droites, chose �trange par le vent et la pluie qu�il fait, s��lancent du miel translucent de ces chandelles, qui sont de formes diff�rentes, les unes cylindriques, d�autres carr�es, sph�riques, ou moul�es en prismes, pyramides ou c�nes. Je contemple ce spectacle �tonnant o� la pluie et le vent fouettent, froissant les branches tandis que les flammes br�lent sans s'incliner. De temps en temps, il y a un petit gr�sillement, quand une goutte d�eau rencontre une flamme. Pourtant nulle flamme ne s��teint. Les palmes dansent dans ce fouillis de lumi�res; parfois une feuille s�embrase dans un jaillissement d�or. Malgr� le spectacle ensorcelant, je m�endors � force de fatigue.

Au matin, j�oublie mon exp�rience de la veille. Plusieurs jours plus tard, je m�en souviens en allant chercher une balle dans les branches du palmier. L� o� �taient les chandelles, je ne trouve qu�une branche calcin�e.

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2001 G�rard Ducasse
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
August 2001
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
3552
 

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