Ce matin, il y a le soleil
\nQui m’emplit l’espace d’un instant
\nD’un vide sans trace \u00e9videmment
\nIl y a le piano qui joue
\nJe voudrais embrasser cette joue
\nSur le drap virtuel, pas pareil…<\/p>\n
Sais-tu que tu as le doux pr\u00e9nom
\nDe mon enfant r\u00eav\u00e9e, de ma fille ?
\nEst-ce pour cela que mes yeux brillent,
\nQue j’ai le sourire esquiss\u00e9 triste
\nQue tes mots sont lanc\u00e9s d’une balliste
\nViennent \u00e9branler ma raison ?…<\/p>\n
Ce matin, ma joie m\u00e9lancolique ;
\nIl y a le soleil qui r\u00e9chauffe
\nLes violons, les notes qui s’\u00e9chauffent ;
\nDr\u00f4le de m\u00e9lange, O mon ange,
\nLes couleurs sans cesse elles changent
\nEtre p\u00e8re aurait \u00e9t\u00e9 si magique ;<\/p>\n
Mais dans ces sentiments m\u00e9lang\u00e9s,
\nSais-tu que tu n’as rien \u00e0 y faire ?
\nOui, ce n’est ni ta vie ni ta guerre…
\nJe te dis cela mais je sais pas
\nNi le comment et ni le pourquoi ;
\nPuis-je t’aimer comme j’ai aim\u00e9 ?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ce matin, il y a le soleil Qui m’emplit l’espace d’un instant D’un vide sans trace \u00e9videmment Il y a le piano qui joue Je voudrais embrasser cette joue Sur le drap virtuel, pas pareil… Sais-tu que tu as le doux pr\u00e9nom De mon enfant r\u00eav\u00e9e, de ma fille ? Est-ce pour cela que mes […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"R\u00eaveries m\u00e9lancoliques:","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[79,4],"tags":[7,5],"class_list":["post-354","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fdr","category-poesies","tag-la-fille-du-rien","tag-vers-libres"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4SHRd-5I","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/354","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=354"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/354\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2076,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/354\/revisions\/2076"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=354"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=354"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=354"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}