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Marcel Aouizerate


Syrie


Lorsque nous nous retournerons allongés dans les vagues
Sous les lueurs finissantes de la modernité, verrons nous plus
Clairement où s’étaient ouverts les laboratoires de l’obscénité;
Cela avait-il commencé dans les plaines pétrifiées
Lors des combats inégaux de races insaisissables,
Pour fleurir en asphyxie dans nos racines?
Nous ânonnerons notre hymne somnifère agrippés aux écumes,
Laissant distraitement l'Europe au temps qui conduit les ondes,
Pourtant toujours confiants en un flot qui
Nous éloigne du point d’exclamation de l'atome.
Ceci finira par ressembler à un naufrage par uniforme,
Quand nous serons paisibles à la crête,
Ayant retenu la destruction mutuelle d'un trou dans la tête,
D'un trou dans la terre puis d'une issue au cercueil par l'oubli.
Où serons nous, qui serons nous encore, lorsque
Nous monterons à l’aise dans la nuée, n’ayant rien fait
Au moment du choix, de la main tendue dans le brouillard inodore.

Submitted: Sunday, September 01, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 04, 2013

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