Qu’un Pape rit, en bonne foi,
Je ne l’ose assurer ; mais je tiendrais un Roi
Bien malheureux s’il n’osait rire.
C’est un plaisir des dieux. Malgré son noir sourcil,
Jupiter, et le peuple immortel rit aussi.
Pour que ton rire pur, jeune, tendre et léger,
S’épanouisse en fleur sonore,
Il faut qu’avril verdisse aux pousses du verger,
Plus vertes d’aurore en aurore,[..]
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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