"mousse" poems
Black girls are the most juicy and sweet candies in the world: melanin masterpiece of nature, bubbly as sweet soda. Dark skin color is the most pleasant and sweet light color. Skin is like chocolate candy, sugar-marmalade taste of lips, only a dark-skinned girl can give the most juicy, juicy and sweet kiss with her big sensual lips. The skin is soft as chocolate sponge cake. Her skin shines beautifully in the light like jam, soft body parts like pudding. Lips and intimate places are so sweet as if juicy, hot, hot dark chocolate, feet like ice cream waffles. The color of her skin is like a sweet delicacy, a gorgeous dessert, sweet chocolate cream, chocolate mousse, an unforgettable sugar taste and you get into the taste, skin as if emitting hot moans of *** The blacker, the juicier and sweeter the skin, juicy relish, the hotter its sexuality and passion, like a panther with strikingly beautiful eyes, like a powerful magnet beckons to itself, fascinating for its beauty.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:52 AM UTC
What a face
"Sells"
Abruptly she yells
Matte burning dry
Just try
Too moisten her lips
She's the Red devil
From hell why does her
orange face peel sell?
The right color
a psychic won't tell
Wishing well drenched
He touched my orange juice
"All Frenched"
She loves to slice and
he peels what appeal
orange saffron sauce
One last juicy squirt
divorce
It's time for fresh squeeze
Too frozen concentrate
The happy hour "Orange" feel
no other place like fate
Ten times real
"One" face peel has been
love absorbed
Like lemon meringue
Tainted love
Bitter grind soft butter glove
Do you mind orange flame
(The Spa) sells to be loved
Tra la so kind all Grunge
Going "Wawa" coffee cruel
Other colors haha
Movie set Orange payroll
lounge tease squirt
But destroyed by the evil
spell curse
Summoned on sunburst
But we need the Orange
before the sun comes
Like clones orange, you glad
we have "Green Apple"
phones
One step beyond orange
zones
I don't want to burst your
orange sauce
Grand Marnier starry twist
of orange
Two timing orange yogurt
Taste to tangy it hurt
Hey Yo Orange peel Spa
Still sticks Orange Julius
flirt
O outrageous P pick
What turns us on and gets us sick
Plan your work and work your plan
Never offend her
Let's see the chef make you love her
Creamified dreamlike Whip free
The orange mousse pie
Let me hear it yummy to lie
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Each day I watch the ocean swell
Sometimes with hope, sometimes despair;
The ocean's faces ever change
Like the fashions of their hair:
Monday:
Like a waterfall of brown
Through golden culverts flowing--
Sweeps me far away downstream,
Without her ever knowing.
Tuesday:
Rippled clouds at sunrise,
Supple, damp and red,
Combed out, twisted in a braid,
Or just left loose instead.
Wednesday:
Of her black hair a single strand
Sweeter than Midnight's darkest land;
When it lightens up again,
Its sunrise on a beach of sand.
Thursday:
Like golden floss on top of corn,
Silky, curly, fine,
Rising from a thick, black band
Above blue eyes that shine.
Friday:
Whipped up like a hot souffle,
Luxurious, soft, held loose
With ribbons, combs and perfume,
Tempting like a mousse.
Saturday:
Her pony tail we follow,
Like the Christmas star;
Maybe we're not wise men,
But then, maybe we are.
Sunday:
Her hair flew up out the vent
Like a flame,
When we hit an unmarked bump
(Not big).
The top slid shut,
And her hair almost caught,
So I reached up
And pulled it in quick.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
The London*
underground
Shoes Chatterbox
Choo Choo train
Mr. Earl Gray
Greyhound
Doing cartwheels
Head over heels
Milk the Cow
"Going Moo" in her
Jimmy Choo
Yahoos
Kickapoos
The Odd Mom
Cocker Doddle Doo
Goody Two shoes
'Peekapoo"
The women living
in her shoes
All Mighty God
The dog to chew
Her most expensive
shoe
Lasous
The genius
La Cruz
Goody two shoes
That's show biz
Vacation Dr. Seuss
John Hughes
The master of clues
La mousse
Love truce X-File
Instagram, please smile
In her ballet slippers
He's at the Hub
drinking beer
In the London Fog
Her wooden clogs
Ladybird chirper
He's down to his
goulashes?
Got sidetrack hot
fever lovesick
La muse shoes
Cozy at the caboose
Playing golf in the
Gulf of Mexico
You ain't got a thing
if you don't have
the shoes to swing
Kick up your shoes and
start to sing
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
gold
ring
finger
nail
wood
tree
house
door
window
open
field
flower
bright
sun
light
switch
wall
picture
painting
face
nose
smell
trash
can
soda
sugar
candy
chocolate
mousse
goose
geese
duck
stew
dumplings
chicken
eggs
hash
potatos
peas
carrots
celery
peanut butter
crackers
cheese
swiss
mountains
mist
rainforest
snakes
frogs
toads
flies
fruit
smoothie
straw
hat
construction
bridge
cars
drivers
stearing wheel
brakes
that seems like a fitting place to stop lol
Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
Beauty is power
The words we teach our girls
whipped mousse over the freckles along your temples
will get you respect
the zit under your chin
will make you somebody to avoid for a month
The rouge on your cheeks
will make people think they've made you laugh each time you smile
Taken more seriously under anonymity on cyberspace
than to that same person talking to your face
As the standards grow higher
The modified faces and bodies of revlon and maybeline
become tall tales in every sense
The waistline is taken in to better display the shellac of that manicure
why of course!
as more and more voices go hoarse
from taking out meals before
in fear of a body to abhor
when beauty is power
and its concepts changing
is it only to keep us from misbehaving>
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
earth boy.
air conditioned and living.
/or
following the light of something far from home.
begin:
old town and lovely she.
loved she.
love she like there is no other she.
the one and only she.
she dumps him.
finds a new he.
has *** with the new he in a far corner apartment complex peak
beyond the tracks. train.
troubles;
like screeching howls of love spit and **** city
at midnight.
he buries his hopes and face in pie
at the café
volta.
new her,
wiping the counter calm yet tired yet cute and soon to close shop.
she tells him -
about the keys of lost lovers.
the doors to remain open for the sake of dreams and all possibility.
she tells him -
of the pies at the end of the night.
the cheesecake and the apple pie
/entirely gone.
the peach cobbler and the chocolate mousse
/almost gone.
but the blueberry pie, always
/untouched.
he’ll have that.
some sort of broken in the heart have that/love that/eat that/pie.
they talk for hours.
he rests his head on the counter and sleeps
icecream on his lips.
she almost kisses him right there.
and she remembers him.
attempts to call him while he’s in memphis
/or
some other southern city.
he's on somekind of journey.
he works kitchens for more money to motion further west.
westward sweat and burgers. see/saw.
little money, little love, little city
and onto the next.
she remembers him.
attempts to call him while he’s deeper into the glowing desert dome
/or vegas.
/or, you see the stars above?
she writes him letters.
and he writes her back, and in return, they fall
toward a thought, a light, a lit-up little idea of life full
on good something.
return.
to new york and old scents. old town.
corner apartment complex peak window and memories of a once-was
girl.
beyond the tracks. train.
troubles no more.
return/
to pie.
to café and concept
of sweet-tooth, sweet real something, sweet blueberry nights
and icecream.
and there she is.
with warmer winter/spring smiles than even dreamt.
and her words for hours.
she almost kisses him, but kisses him.
something perpetual
is love.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
Hear the drum in my heart
It goes bang when it can
And in my heart I see you
And I race against myself.
I forgot how to dance
With your red dress
And the the mousse in you hair,
I am just helpless.
Helplessly falling out of love
Wishing it wasn't so,
I thought about our future,
But I saw someone else.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
Every good thing shall happen...
like Friday nights and party rush
surprise calls from a long-time crush
auburn leaves and a cup of tea
cozy couch and a good movie
a sweet embrace, granted wishes
locked up hands, friendly kisses
perfect music, fireworks galore
passionate poetry, books in store
skinny-dipping, pineapple juice
mountaineering, romantic cruise
stick-it notes and scented letters
white rose petals and silver glitters
dusty slip-on and faded pantaloons
sweetened berries and tasty prunes
smooth raps and slow rock hits
magnetic charm and awesome wits
11:11 verses and chicken bones
starry night skies, pebbles and stones
a perfect score, crispy pizza crust
locks and highlights, passionate lust
skirts and pumps, pictures of us
Halloween treats and wedding fuss
hot cappuccino, jam and jelly
first paycheck, winning the lottery
chocolate mousse, ice cold drinks
ocean waves, seductive winks
silk and laces, laughs after cries
cool car drifting and belly butterflies
left hand scribbles, messy hair buns
Oakley goggles and water guns
funny jokes, late night talks
rainy days, twilight walks
flickering lights, vintage cars
logs in swamps and monkey bars
a hopeful daybreak, latte aroma
fogged up glasses, squeaky veranda
carnation in bloom, warm summer breeze
slow ********** trimmed cypress trees
naughty kiddie play, blindfolds and tricks
mistletoe and acorns, fresh and fancy kicks
baked salmons and grilled corn
ending fights and a newborn
free-verse poetry, an orchestral song
a stranger's smile, a dancing throng
finishing a novel, Luna's glow
binding friendships, December snow
but the best thing for me, I'd like you to know
is to tell you finally that I Love You So.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
*Oh you nits, you lice, you bugs
You crawl around his head so smug
On the 1st day back at school
It really isn't very cool
Out comes the comb & the mousse
And through the tears I will unloose
Your vicious hold upon his hair
It's 8am - it isn't fair!
It's a war zone in our bathroom
As I eradicate the bugs of doom
As if we didn't have enough
Of things to do & other stuff
To get ourselves to the gates
Of the school & now we're late
Oh critters of the head & hair
Expunged you'll be from your lair
I'm going to flush you down the bath
Oh motherhood - you've gotta laugh!*
(C) Pixievic 2016
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 5:05 AM UTC
This meal will be magic
worldwide skills, are no sort of tragic
for starters may I suggest
the spinach dip, you put to the test
Broccoli cheddar chowder
to help you recoup
but served with pit
I'd choose Mock Turtle soup
It's what mock turtle soup is made from
So your hungry?
But would never eat a horse
let me enlighten thee main course
It'll keep you lookin great, in your bikini
Its the sauteed jack, pita panini
Yet wait just a second
don't be so quick to cruise
for dessert your spirit will vigor
for my strawberry mousse
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:06 PM UTC
Going down to sizzlers, (the sizzler song)
Come on mum and dad, don't be a tease
I do a lot of cooking, so why don't you grab the car keys
You see mum, there is no need to cook
And dad,,there is no need to book
Yeah we can have a lot of fun at sizzler, yeah
You see dad will have a steak
Mum will have a break, I prefer all you can eat
So I can eat myself stupid, man
So while dad is enjoying his steak, yes, he
Says it's so melt in the mouth
And I am fucken feeding my face, and looking like a loser, yeah
I first would have a plate of prawns, yeah I liked that,,yeah
And then I will have a savoury dip and special kind of crackers
And then I'll try a garlic bread and pasta, yeah
After that, when normal people give up
I will have ice cream and jelly and pancakes too
I will also try the nice chocolate mousse and healthy yoghurt
Oh yeah that's so nice, and listen mum, you shouldn't be a tease
Cause we can have a good meal at sizzler, please
And mum and dad enjoyed their meal, and they knew when to stop
But for about 20 minutes I was in the toilets spewing like crazy , oh yeah
My mum and dad were worried, and it got them all stressed
But the stupid vomiting won't actually stop
And when I felt a bit better I left the toilets
And mum and dad took me home because to them it was embarrassing
And on the way home I felt like vomiting again
And mum and dad stopped the car, so I can ***** it out
And I was there for about another 20 more minutes
And mum and dad said, come on, son, it's cold and we want to get home to the warm
And when I finished, I got back home, and it was a laugh a minute at sizzler yeah
You see dad enjoyed the steak, and mum enjoyed a break
And I think there should be a law against all you can eat places
Because all you can eat, is a bit of a tease
I was going down to sizzlers to ***** in the toilet, oh yeah
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
*I groggily stumble out of bed
My high pitched ear splitting alarm
Having ****** me to consciousness
Everything around me seemingly heel over head
Spiraling up and down virtual staircases of confusion.
Aftereffects of a long night cut short inadvertently, causing untoward harm
Thank Heavens I don’t suffer from urinary incontinence
It’d otherwise be a disaster of mind boggling proportion
I go about my daily routine tasks in slow haste
Mine eyes heavier than lead, straining to keep them alert
I hurriedly help myself to a serving of chips doused in tomato paste
I top up my morning meal with a chocolate mousse dessert
I proceed to kiss mummy on the cheek
Wishing and hoping for a good week.*
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
Not tasting like affliction,
Not looking with reflection,
Needing a new affectation,
Unable to keep either hand
off
that remote control,
surfing from place to place,
Finding varying degrees of
un-
kempt hair,
Channeling, "Chocolate,
My Chocolate,"
The darker the better,
silky smooth
mousse, melts, making
merriments,
for the senses,
These are a few, of some favorite things
yet nothing compared to what
red wine brings to the table,
with nothing on,
as it unveils the light,
as added swirl to glass,
the round of the cup in the palm
of an open hand,
reminds one of...
past...bottles lying about the place,
a few at a time, Listen...
To be true, only hearing about
drugs as recreation, or
******** substances of
abuse, strange mystery to me,
as I am high on life,
so I cannot write about
what I don't know,
On anger, the hurt, on self-loathing, sings
a call from the Halls of the mountain King,
as printed voices tell in clear,
of battle scars,
of toxic people,
influence,
on lives that matter much,
much more than you know, I care for y'all,
but this ends, a tortured
free
verse,
freed,
for now I must feed my addiction,
"Open up, beautiful, here is another dark chocolate wine dipped cherry, no, no,
not from the bowl, but from my naked lips...
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Brandy-dipped lady fingers
Bavarian cream;
cinnamon, sugar, eggs, milk
light, cool, smooth like mousse
Summerberry crown
dust sugar
Slice!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC
L'hirondelle au printemps cherche les vieilles tours,
Débris où n'est plus l'homme, où la vie est toujours ;
La fauvette en avril cherche, ô ma bien-aimée,
La forêt sombre et fraîche et l'épaisse ramée,
La mousse, et, dans les noeuds des branches, les doux toits
Qu'en se superposant font les feuilles des bois.
Ainsi fait l'oiseau. Nous, nous cherchons, dans la ville,
Le coin désert, l'abri solitaire et tranquille.
Le seuil qui n'a pas d'yeux obliques et méchants,
La rue où les volets sont fermés ; dans les champs,
Nous cherchons le sentier du pâtre et du poète ;
Dans les bois, la clairière inconnue et muette
Où le silence éteint les bruits lointains et sourds.
L'oiseau cache son nid, nous cachons nos amours.
Fontainebleau, juin 18...
1.3k
Every body's ******* about one-day-outta-the-year,
but I like to be your little princess for a night
when you open up all my doors,
pair the steak with the exact right bottle of wine
and we finish off the entire thing.
Chocolate mousse, made with love,
an entire pile of romantic movies to pick from
while you stare at me adoringly across the
immaculate
candle lit
apartment that's finally clean! (just for me)
Then Brazilian jazz in a bubble bath,
(you thought of every little thing)
I lean back into you, feeling your lips rest on my hairline.
You said we should do this more often.
Then I gave you a Santa bubble beard
we took pictures
and we laughed hysterically in the light of a candle.
It's how I know, before and after it all that
**** it
(I love you.)
The trick is slipping it into conversation.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
Sonnet.
Depuis huit jours, j'avais déchiré mes bottines
Aux cailloux des chemins. J'entrais à Charleroi.
- Au Cabaret-Vert : je demandai des tartines
De beurre et du jambon qui fût à moitié froid.
Bienheureux, j'allongeai les jambes sous la table
Verte : je contemplai les sujets très naïfs
De la tapisserie. - Et ce fut adorable,
Quand la fille aux tétons énormes, aux yeux vifs,
- Celle-là, ce n'est pas un baiser qui l'épeure ! -
Rieuse, m'apporta des tartines de beurre,
Du jambon tiède, dans un plat colorié,
Du jambon rose et blanc parfumé d'une gousse
D'ail, - et m'emplit la chope immense, avec sa mousse
Que dorait un rayon de soleil arriéré.
1.2k
She is unhappy
She feels so scarred
She feels so ugly
She feels so large
She looks so tired
She looks so trapped
She seems so sad
So broken, so snapped
She doesn't cry like an angel
Her eyes are puffy and her face is a mess
She gives silent heaves and wipes at her nose
And she knows she as ugly as everyone says
She ***** in her cheeks
Pinches her nose
Pulls up her brows
Then drops the pose
She changes her clothes
She fixes her nails
She cuts her hair
And no one cares
She slathers on foundation
Stains her lips with rouge
Conceals every imperfection
Stills her hair with mousse
She still feels ugly
She still feels overweight
She still won't eat a bite of food
Until she feels she looks great
But that day isn't coming
She is judged everyday
By that mirror and that scale
And the model on the front page
She's fat, she knows it
She's not in perfect shape
There's no thigh gap
There's no one that likes her face
And she's staring at the mirror
Seeing her reality
She wants to look better
She wants to be pretty
She's staring at the mirror
She's waiting for the image to change
She's waiting for her work to pay off
She checking every single day
And she's staring in the mirror
It's been years and she still doesn't fit
And she's staring at the mirror
But never once has she liked the image
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
I want to be like Rachael Ray
Not for money or fame but because
I'd deliver my perfect eggplant parmesan
To great enthusiastic applause
I'd like to slice an onion, too
Just like the smiling Rachael does
Or complete a sweet peach cobbler
To the sound of ooh's and aah's
You don't have to weep with joy often
Over last night's chocolate mousse batch
Just put your hands together, can't you?
To deliver that 5-minute clap
I know it sounds quite arrogant
Desiring such full appreciation
But that feeling keeps washing over me
Wanting accolades for my creations
Just once as I set dinner on the table
They all inhale in admiration
While they leap to their feet spontaneously
To give me my standing ovation!
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Tandis que l'étoile inodore
Que l'été mêle aux blonds épis
Emaille de son bleu lapis
Les sillons que la moisson dore,
Avant que, de fleurs dépeuplés,
Les champs aient subi les faucilles,
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Entre les villes andalouses,
Il n'en est pas qui sous le ciel
S'étende mieux que Peñafiel
Sur les gerbes et les pelouses,
Pas qui dans ses murs crénelés
Lève de plus fières bastilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Il n'est pas de cité chrétienne,
Pas de monastère à beffroi,
Chez le Saint-Père et chez le Roi,
Où, vers la Saint-Ambroise, il vienne
Plus de bons pèlerins hâlés,
Portant bourdon, gourde et coquilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Dans nul pays, les jeunes femmes,
Les soirs, lorsque l'on danse en rond,
N'ont plus de roses sur le front,
Et n'ont dans le cœur plus de flammes ;
Jamais plus vifs et plus voilés
Regards n'ont lui sous les mantilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
La perle de l'Andalousie,
Alice, était de Peñafiel,
Alice qu'en faisant son miel
Pour fleur une abeille eût choisie.
Ces jours, hélas ! sont envolés !
On la citait dans les familles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Un étranger vint dans la ville,
Jeune, et parlant avec dédain.
Etait-ce un maure grenadin ?
Un de Murcie ou de Séville ?
Venait-il des bords désolés
Où Tunis a ses escadrilles ?...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
On ne savait. - La pauvre Alice
En fut aimée, et puis l'aima.
Le doux vallon du Xarama
De leur doux péché fut complice.
Le soir, sous les cieux étoilés,
Tous deux erraient par les charmilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
La ville était lointaine et sombre ;
Et la lune, douce aux amours,
Se levant derrière les tours
Et les clochers perdus dans l'ombre,
Des édifices dentelés
Découpait en noir les aiguilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Cependant, d'Alice jalouses,
En rêvant au bel étranger,
Sous l'arbre à soie et l'oranger
Dansaient les brunes andalouses ;
Les cors, aux guitares mêlés,
Animaient les joyeux quadrilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
L'oiseau dort dans le lit de mousse
Que déjà menace l'autour ;
Ainsi dormait dans son amour
Alice confiante et douce.
Le jeune homme aux cheveux bouclés,
C'était don Juan, roi des Castilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Or c'est péril qu'aimer un prince.
Un jour, sur un noir palefroi
On la jeta de par le roi ;
On l'arracha de la province ;
Un cloître sur ses jours troublés
De par le roi ferma ses grilles...
Allez, allez, ô jeunes filles,
Cueillir des bleuets dans les blés !
Le 13 avril 1828.
1.3k
Sonnet.
C'est un trou de verdure où chante une rivière,
Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons
D'argent ; où le soleil, de la montagne fière,
Luit : c'est un petit val qui mousse de rayons.
Un soldat jeune, bouche ouverte, tête nue,
Et la nuque baignant dans le frais cresson bleu,
Dort ; il est étendu dans l'herbe, sous la nue,
Pâle dans son lit vert où la lumière pleut.
Les pieds dans les glaïeuls, il dort. Souriant comme
Sourirait un enfant malade, il fait un somme :
Nature, berce-le chaudement : il a froid.
Les parfums ne font pas frissonner sa narine ;
Il dort dans le soleil, la main sur sa poitrine,
Tranquille. Il a deux trous rouges au côté droit.
1.1k
I had to write on anything I wished
There was this demand
So I decided to write on ****
Which goes down in troops
Entering the toilet's streams
A chocolate mousse it seems
You may say, you may say yikes
But that is how the toilet likes
Yes it smells! Yes it stinks
Yet its fun to watch it
Plop, drop and kink!!
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
I.
Aimez bien vos amours ; aimez l'amour qui rêve
Une rose à la lèvre et des fleurs dans les yeux ;
C'est lui que vous cherchez quand votre avril se lève,
Lui dont reste un parfum quand vos ans se font vieux.
Aimez l'amour qui joue au soleil des peintures,
Sous l'azur de la Grèce, autour de ses autels,
Et qui déroule au ciel la tresse et les ceintures,
Ou qui vide un carquois sur des coeurs immortels.
Aimez l'amour qui parle avec la lenteur basse
Des Ave Maria chuchotés sous l'arceau ;
C'est lui que vous priez quand votre tête est lasse,
Lui dont la voix vous rend le rythme du berceau.
Aimez l'amour que Dieu souffla sur notre fange,
Aimez l'amour aveugle, allumant son flambeau,
Aimez l'amour rêvé qui ressemble à notre ange,
Aimez l'amour promis aux cendres du tombeau !
Aimez l'antique amour du règne de Saturne,
Aimez le dieu charmant, aimez le dieu caché,
Qui suspendait, ainsi qu'un papillon nocturne,
Un baiser invisible aux lèvres de Psyché !
Car c'est lui dont la terre appelle encore la flamme,
Lui dont la caravane humaine allait rêvant,
Et qui, triste d'errer, cherchant toujours une âme,
Gémissait dans la lyre et pleurait dans le vent.
Il revient ; le voici : son aurore éternelle
A frémi comme un monde au ventre de la nuit,
C'est le commencement des rumeurs de son aile ;
Il veille sur le sage, et la vierge le suit.
Le songe que le jour dissipe au coeur des femmes,
C'est ce Dieu. Le soupir qui traverse les bois,
C'est ce Dieu. C'est ce Dieu qui tord les oriflammes
Sur les mâts des vaisseaux et des faîtes des toits.
Il palpite toujours sous les tentes de toile,
Au fond de tous les cris et de tous les secrets ;
C'est lui que les lions contemplent dans l'étoile ;
L'oiseau le chante au loup qui le hurle aux forêts.
La source le pleurait, car il sera la mousse,
Et l'arbre le nommait, car il sera le fruit,
Et l'aube l'attendait, lui, l'épouvante douce
Qui fera reculer toute ombre et toute nuit.
Le voici qui retourne à nous, son règne est proche,
Aimez l'amour, riez ! Aimez l'amour, chantez !
Et que l'écho des bois s'éveille dans la roche,
Amour dans les déserts, amour dans les cités !
Amour sur l'Océan, amour sur les collines !
Amour dans les grands lys qui montent des vallons !
Amour dans la parole et les brises câlines !
Amour dans la prière et sur les violons !
Amour dans tous les coeurs et sur toutes les lèvres !
Amour dans tous les bras, amour dans tous les doigts !
Amour dans tous les seins et dans toutes les fièvres !
Amour dans tous les yeux et dans toutes les voix !
Amour dans chaque ville : ouvrez-vous, citadelles !
Amour dans les chantiers : travailleurs, à genoux !
Amour dans les couvents : anges, battez des ailes !
Amour dans les prisons : murs noirs, écroulez-vous !
II.
Mais adorez l'Amour terrible qui demeure
Dans l'éblouissement des futures Sions,
Et dont la plaie, ouverte encor, saigne à toute heure
Sur la croix, dont les bras s'ouvrent aux nations.
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