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Des rives fertiles, elle passe au large<\/span> 17 octobre 2012<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_post_nav admin_label=\u00a0\u00bbNavigation dans les posts\u00a0\u00bb in_same_term=\u00a0\u00bboff\u00a0\u00bb hide_prev=\u00a0\u00bboff\u00a0\u00bb hide_next=\u00a0\u00bboff\u00a0\u00bb use_border_color=\u00a0\u00bboff\u00a0\u00bb border_color=\u00a0\u00bb#ffffff\u00a0\u00bb border_style=\u00a0\u00bbsolid\u00a0\u00bb \/][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Des rives fertiles, elle passe au large Tangue jalousement son horizon crant\u00e9 Sommets aux trac\u00e9s obsol\u00e8tes Le chien bleu andalou ne r\u00e9pond de rien Ni l’\u00e9cureuil fugace, rousseur entraper\u00e7ue \u00a0 Automne Mar\u00e9e basse Elle cherche l\u00e0 Au repli des p\u00e9nombres Un r\u00eave inhabit\u00e9 Crypte au bout du hors-piste Le ciel bruisse noir Et les adrets […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" Des rives fertiles, elle passe au large<\/span> 17 octobre 2012<\/span><\/p><\/div>","_et_gb_content_width":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-774","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-quatrieme-volet"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/774","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=774"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/774\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":775,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/774\/revisions\/775"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=774"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=774"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voletsouvers.ovh\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=774"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n Tangue jalousement son horizon crant\u00e9<\/span>
\n Sommets aux trac\u00e9s obsol\u00e8tes<\/span>
\n Le chien bleu andalou ne r\u00e9pond de rien<\/span>
\n Ni l’\u00e9cureuil fugace, rousseur entraper\u00e7ue \u00a0<\/span>
\n Automne<\/span>
\n Mar\u00e9e basse<\/span>
\n Elle cherche l\u00e0<\/span>
\n Au repli des p\u00e9nombres<\/span>
\n Un r\u00eave inhabit\u00e9<\/span>
\n Crypte au bout du hors-piste<\/span>
\n Le ciel bruisse noir<\/span>
\n Et les adrets s’embrasent de fleurs min\u00e9rales<\/span>
\n C’est comme un hymne, un appel<\/span>
\n Elle engrange chaque jour qui passe<\/span>
\n Attise l’enfant-flamme au sommeil f\u00e9roce<\/span>
\n Cette absence t\u00eatue qui la grignote<\/span>
\n En perdre l’impatience \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
Tangue jalousement son horizon crant\u00e9<\/span>
Sommets aux trac\u00e9s obsol\u00e8tes<\/span>
Le chien bleu andalou ne r\u00e9pond de rien<\/span>
Ni l'\u00e9cureuil fugace, rousseur entraper\u00e7ue \u00a0<\/span>
Automne<\/span>
Mar\u00e9e basse<\/span>
Elle cherche l\u00e0<\/span>
Au repli des p\u00e9nombres<\/span>
Un r\u00eave inhabit\u00e9<\/span>
Crypte au bout du hors-piste<\/span>
Le ciel bruisse noir<\/span>
Et les adrets s'embrasent de fleurs min\u00e9rales<\/span>
C'est comme un hymne, un appel<\/span>
Elle engrange chaque jour qui passe<\/span>
Attise l'enfant-flamme au sommeil f\u00e9roce<\/span>
Cette absence t\u00eatue qui la grignote<\/span>
En perdre l'impatience \u00a0<\/span><\/p>