Elle

   Elle, la poésie est un passage. Elle tend à s’intégrer dans la vie, en abandonnant sa forme. Les transformations qu'a subies la forme à travers les siècle m'incitent à penser que d'autres transformations... peuvent aller jusqu’à la perte de ses caractères perceptibles.

Tristan Tzara, 1936

4.

 I sate beside him while the morning beam
Crept slowly over Heaven, and talked with him
Of those immortal hopes, a glorious theme!
Which led us forth, until the stars grew dim: _1750
And all the while, methought, his voice did swim
As if it drowned in remembrance were
Of thoughts which make the moist eyes overbrim:
At last, when daylight ‘gan to fill the air,
He looked on me, and cried in wonder—‘Thou art here!’ _1755

 

(

Percy Bysshe Shelley) English Poet