Regarde sans frayeur la fin de toutes choses,
Consulte le miroir avec des yeux contents.
On ne voit point tomber ni tes lys, ni tes roses,
Et l’hiver de ta vie est ton second printemps. […]
Mon âme, il faut partir. Ma vigueur est passée,
Mon dernier jour est dessus l’horizon.
Tu crains ta liberté. Quoi ! N’es-tu pas lassée
D’avoir souffert soixante ans de prison ?
Saviez-vous que l’épigramme était le plus court des genres littéraires ? Découvrez ma sélection d’épigrammes d’auteurs et mes écrits personnels.
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