{"id":466,"date":"2016-04-06T18:45:26","date_gmt":"2016-04-06T18:45:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/colbysites.org\/womenpoets\/combat\/"},"modified":"2021-05-13T11:19:36","modified_gmt":"2021-05-13T15:19:36","slug":"combat","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/siefert\/works-9\/combat\/","title":{"rendered":"Louisa Siefert : \u00c0 l&#8217;honneur du combat&#8230;."},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"poem\" align=\"center\">\n<p class=\"volume-name\" style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Les Sto\u00efques<\/em> (1870)<\/p>\n<h4 class=\"poem-title\" style=\"text-align: center;\">&nbsp;<\/h4>\n<div id=\"center_block\">\n<div class=\"epigraph\">Toute \u00e2me est un s\u00e9pulcre o\u00f9 gisent mille choses.<br \/>\n<span class=\"epigraph-author\">Th\u00e9ophile Gautier<\/span><\/div>\n<p>\u00c0 l&#8217;honneur du combat qu&#8217;importe la victoire ?<br \/>\nCelui qui pour mourir se couche en son drapeau,<br \/>\nSuaire que son sang a fait tout rouge, est beau :<br \/>\nC&#8217;est la fatalit\u00e9, mais c&#8217;est aussi la gloire.<\/p>\n<p>Toute \u00e2me est le champ clos d&#8217;une bataille noire,<br \/>\nSans piti\u00e9 ni merci, sans soleil ni flambeau.<br \/>\nChaque illusion morte y trouve son tombeau<br \/>\nEt dans sa chute entra\u00eene au n\u00e9ant sa m\u00e9moire.<\/p>\n<p>Ainsi, fiers seulement du devoir accompli,<br \/>\nTristes cercueils o\u00f9 dort l&#8217;amour enseveli<br \/>\nPr\u00e8s des \u00e9lans fougueux &amp; des grandes pens\u00e9es,<\/p>\n<p>Nous tra\u00eenons le fardeau de nos forces lass\u00e9es,<br \/>\nEt nous nous survivons dans cet immense oubli,<br \/>\nSentant s&#8217;ouvrir le ciel sur nos t\u00eates baiss\u00e9es.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/siefert\/works-9\/lesstoiquespage\/\">Retour \u00e0 la table des mati\u00e8res<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Les Sto\u00efques (1870) &nbsp; Toute \u00e2me est un s\u00e9pulcre o\u00f9 gisent mille choses. Th\u00e9ophile Gautier \u00c0 l&#8217;honneur du combat qu&#8217;importe la victoire ? Celui qui pour mourir se couche en son drapeau, Suaire que son sang a fait tout rouge,&#8230; <a class=\"more-link\" href=\"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/siefert\/works-9\/combat\/\">Continue Reading &rarr;<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":0,"parent":391,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"template-fullwidth.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/466"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/14"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=466"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/466\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8372,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/466\/revisions\/8372"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/391"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/poetes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=466"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}