{"id":831,"date":"2007-10-12T21:56:06","date_gmt":"2007-10-12T21:56:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/2007\/10\/12\/deux-poetes-espagnols\/"},"modified":"2007-10-12T21:56:06","modified_gmt":"2007-10-12T21:56:06","slug":"deux-poetes-espagnols","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/2007\/10\/12\/deux-poetes-espagnols\/","title":{"rendered":"Deux po\u00e8tes espagnols"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"pdfprnt-buttons pdfprnt-buttons-post pdfprnt-top-right\"><a href=\"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/831?print=pdf\" class=\"pdfprnt-button pdfprnt-button-pdf\" target=\"_blank\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/wp-content\/plugins\/pdf-print\/images\/pdf.png\" alt=\"image_pdf\" title=\"Afficher le PDF\"><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/831?print=print\" class=\"pdfprnt-button pdfprnt-button-print\" target=\"_blank\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/wp-content\/plugins\/pdf-print\/images\/print.png\" alt=\"image_print\" title=\"Contenu imprim\u00e9\"><\/a><\/div><div align=\"right\"><em>\u00c0 Anto\u00adnio Machado<\/em><\/div>\n<h2>\u00a1 Padre y pan de la poesia&nbsp;!<\/h2>\n<poesie>Lunes sin&nbsp;voz<br>\ny martes sin razones,<br>\nmi\u00e9r\u00adcoles sin Historia\u2026<br>\n\u00a1 Oh reloj grave jun\u00adto al r\u00edo que&nbsp;huye&nbsp;!<br>\n\u00a1 Oh reloj en ace\u00adcho, pal\u00adpi\u00adtante&nbsp;reloj<br>\npaciente tiem\u00adpo espe\u00adran\u00addo&nbsp;matar<br>\ncon sus agu\u00adjas&nbsp;fr\u00edas<br>\nal rojo toro ib\u00e9\u00adri\u00adco trabado<br>\nen el aleve coso de Occidente&nbsp;!\n<p>\u00a1 Oh rapaz viento,<br>\nrosa que calculas<br>\nel inter\u00ad\u00e9s com\u00adpues\u00adto de la huma\u00adna tragedia&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>S\u00ed. El Occi\u00addente es&nbsp;hielo,<br>\npan\u00adta\u00adno de traiciones,<br>\nsangre pri\u00adsi\u00f3n y&nbsp;hielo.<br>\nY entre dos resplandores<br>\nen Occi\u00addente se&nbsp;alza<br>\nel tro\u00adno de la Ban\u00adca y de la guerra.<br>\ny entre dos&nbsp;luces<br> \u2013 nie\u00adbla sin alma, oca\u00adso sin noticias&nbsp;\u2013<br>\nun buitre ceni\u00adcien\u00adto vue\u00adla cerni\u00e9ndose,<br>\nbaja por tor\u00adtu\u00adrar la agon\u00eda insepulta<br>\nde Espa\u00f1a encadenada<br>\nde Espa\u00f1a Prometeo<br>\ny su ver\u00adbo rebelde<br>\nque se lla\u00adma Antonio.<\/p>\n<p>Y entre dos&nbsp;luces<br>\ny entre dos resplandores<br>\n\u00a1 qu\u00e9 ausente mar<br> \u2013 Anto\u00adnio meditando&nbsp;\u2013<br>\nresue\u00adna en el destierro&nbsp;!<br>\n\u00a1 Qu\u00e9 amar\u00adga&nbsp;risa<br>\ncomo el pro\u00adfun\u00addo&nbsp;yodo<br>\nde la huma\u00adna esperanza<br>\nlle\u00adna la sequedad,<br>\nsube hacia las alturas<br>\npor yer\u00admos y roquedas<br>\npara ganar la cal\u00adma del crep\u00fasculo<br>\npor ver la luz del \u00falti\u00admo poniente<br>\npor dete\u00adner el&nbsp;sol<br>\nsobre el abis\u00admo&nbsp;ciego<br>\nencen\u00addien\u00addo razones.<\/p>\n<p>Y Anto\u00adnio no est\u00e1&nbsp;solo.<br>\nY Anto\u00adnio tiene un mun\u00addo ante sus&nbsp;ojos<br>\nque ven caer cadenas.<br>\nY Anto\u00adnio tiene&nbsp;o\u00eddos<br>\nque oyen cre\u00adcer la hierba,<br>\ncre\u00adcer los pueblos.<br>\nY Anto\u00adnio tiene&nbsp;voz<br>\nque va diciendo&nbsp;:<br>\n\u00a1 Oh refu\u00adgia\u00addos grises<br>\nhijos del p\u00e1ramo&nbsp;!<br>\n\u00a1 Voso\u00adtros ten\u00addreis sierras<br>\nsier\u00adras de&nbsp;nuevo<br>\ncuan\u00addo el cam\u00adpe\u00adsi\u00adno se interponga<br>\nentre el mar y los se\u00f1ores<br>\njun\u00adto a este lar\u00adgo&nbsp;Duero<br>\nde ni\u00f1os que se mueren\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Es ya de&nbsp;noche<br>\nde noche y con estrellas,<br>\ny Anto\u00adnio est\u00e1 miran\u00addo hacia el Oriente<br>\ndonde un clar\u00edn de albores<br>\nestal\u00adla tras un pino nevado<br>\ntras un hela\u00addo&nbsp;monte<br>\ncual reca\u00adma\u00addo escudo.<br>\n\u00ab&nbsp;\u00bf Has\u00adta cuan\u00addo&nbsp;Ca\u00edn&nbsp;?<br>\n\u00bf Has\u00adta cuan\u00addo los muer\u00adtos secos&nbsp;rios<br>\nde poe\u00adtas ahogados<br>\nara\u00f1ar\u00e1n a Espa\u00f1a&nbsp;?&nbsp;\u00bb<\/p>\n<p>\u00a1 Oh Anto\u00adnio, padre y pan de la poesia,<br>\npoe\u00adta sin carrera,<br>\nhombre desnudo&nbsp;!\u2026<br>\n\u00a1 Oh reloj vivo sobre el tiem\u00adpo que&nbsp;canta&nbsp;!<br>\nLunes con&nbsp;voz<br>\ny martes con Historia,<br>\nmi\u00e9r\u00adcoles con Antonio<br>\n\u00a1 y con Espa\u00f1a,<br>\noh Francia<br>\nque en Collioure<br>\nla tienes enterrada&nbsp;!\u2026&nbsp;<\/p><\/poesie>\nJos\u00e9 Her\u00adre\u00adra Petere\n<div align=\"right\"><em>\u00c0 Anto\u00adnio Machado<\/em><\/div>\n<h2>P\u00e8re et pain de la po\u00e9sie&nbsp;!<\/h2>\n<poesie>Le lun\u00addi est sans&nbsp;voix<br>\net le mar\u00addi sans conscience,<br>\nmer\u00adcre\u00addi sans Histoire\u2026<br>\nHor\u00adloge grave pr\u00e8s du fleuve qui&nbsp;fuit&nbsp;!<br>\nHor\u00adloge aux aguets, \u00e9mou\u00advante horloge<br>\ntemps patient qui attends pour&nbsp;tuer<br>\navec tes froides aiguilles<br>\nle rouge tau\u00adreau ib\u00e9\u00adrique entrav\u00e9<br>\ndans les per\u00adfides ar\u00e8nes de l\u2019Occident&nbsp;!\n<p>Oh, vent rapace,<br>\nRose qui calcule<br>\nles com\u00adplexes int\u00e9\u00adr\u00eats de la tra\u00adg\u00e9\u00addie humaine&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Oui. L\u2019Occident est de&nbsp;glace,<br>\nmarais de trahisons,<br>\nsang, pri\u00adson et&nbsp;glace,<br>\net entre deux \u00e9blouissements<br>\nen Occi\u00addent se&nbsp;l\u00e8ve<br>\nl\u2019Empire de la Banque et de la Guerre.<br>\nEt entre ces deux clart\u00e9s<br> \u2013 brouillard sans \u00e2me, cr\u00e9\u00adpus\u00adcule sans nouvelles&nbsp;\u2013<br>\nun vau\u00adtour cou\u00adleur de cendre, vole, tourne<br>\net des\u00adcend pour trou\u00adbler l\u2019agonie sans s\u00e9pulture<br>\nde l\u2019Espagne encha\u00een\u00e9e<br>\nde l\u2019Espagne Prom\u00e9th\u00e9e<br>\net de son verbe rebelle<br>\nqui se nomme Antonio.<\/p>\n<p>Et entre deux clart\u00e9s<br>\nEt entre deux \u00e9blouissements<br>\nla mer est absente<br> \u2013 m\u00e9dite Antonio&nbsp;\u2013<br>\net pour\u00adtant elle chante en&nbsp;exil&nbsp;!<br>\nQuel rire&nbsp;amer<br>\nsem\u00adblable \u00e0 l\u2019iode profond<br>\nde l\u2019esp\u00e9rance humaine<br>\nrem\u00adpli de s\u00e9cheresse,<br>\nmonte vers les&nbsp;cimes<br>\n\u00e0 tra\u00advers les rocs et les terres arides<br>\npour trou\u00adver le calme du cr\u00e9puscule<br>\npour voir la lumi\u00e8re du der\u00adnier couchant<br>\npour rete\u00adnir le soleil<br>\nsur l\u2019aveugle ab\u00eeme<br>\npour r\u00e9veiller les consciences&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Et Anto\u00adnio n\u2019est plus&nbsp;seul.<br>\nEt Anto\u00adnio devant ses yeux voit un&nbsp;monde<br>\nqui fait tom\u00adber ses cha\u00eenes.<br>\nEt Anto\u00adnio entend pous\u00adser l\u2019herbe,<br>\net les peuples grandir.<br>\nEt Anto\u00adnio&nbsp;dit&nbsp;:<br>\nOh, tristes r\u00e9fugi\u00e9s,<br>\nfils de la savane&nbsp;!<br>\nVous aurez des champs,<br>\ndes champs \u00e0 nouveau<br>\nlorsque le pay\u00adsan se mettra<br>\nentre la mer et les seigneurs<br>\npr\u00e8s de ce large&nbsp;Duero<br>\nd\u2019enfants qui se meurent\u2026<\/p>\n<p>D\u00e9j\u00e0 il fait&nbsp;nuit<br>\nune nuit \u00e9toil\u00e9e,<br>\net Anto\u00adnio regarde vers l\u2019Orient<br>\no\u00f9 le clai\u00adron de l\u2019aube<br>\n\u00e9clate sous les pins neigeux<br>\nder\u00adri\u00e8re un mont&nbsp;glac\u00e9<br>\npareil \u00e0 un \u00e9cus\u00adson patin\u00e9.<br>\nCom\u00adbien de temps encore, Ca\u00efn&nbsp;?<br>\nCom\u00adbien de temps encore les mortes et s\u00e8ches rivi\u00e8res<br>\nde po\u00e8tes \u00e9touff\u00e9s<br>\ngrif\u00adfe\u00adront-elles l\u2019Espagne&nbsp;?<\/p>\n<p>Oh, Anto\u00adnio, p\u00e8re et pain de la po\u00e9sie,<br>\npo\u00e8te sans carri\u00e8re,<br>\nhomme&nbsp;nu&nbsp;!\u2026<br>\nhor\u00adloge vivante sur le temps qui chante&nbsp;!<br>\nLun\u00addi qui&nbsp;parle<br>\nmar\u00addi avec l\u2019Histoire,<br>\nmer\u00adcre\u00addi avec Antonio<br>\net avec l\u2019Espagne,<br>\ntoi, qui \u00e0 Collioure<br>\noh, France<br>\nla garde enterr\u00e9e&nbsp;!<\/p><\/poesie>\n<p>Jos\u00e9 Her\u00adre\u00adra Petere<\/p>\n<p>(Remarque peut-\u00eatre indis\u00adpen\u00adsable&nbsp;: La po\u00e9\u00adsie est la po\u00e9\u00adsie. Mais s\u2019il devait y avoir dans l\u2019esprit du lec\u00adteur oppo\u00adsi\u00adtion entre les ar\u00e8nes per\u00adfides de l\u2019Occident et les pro\u00admesses de l\u2019Orient, nous le ren\u00adver\u00adrions, entre autres, au texte de Serge ici repro\u00adduit. Pas ques\u00adtion pour nous d\u2019innocenter les \u00ab&nbsp;ar\u00e8nes&nbsp;\u00bb&nbsp;; mais pour ce qui est de l\u2019aide orien\u00adtale \u00e0 l\u2019Espagne, on sait ce qu\u2019elle a valu. J. P.&nbsp;S.)<\/p>\n<h2>Misterio del hambre<\/h2>\n<poesie>Se ha muer\u00adto el&nbsp;pan\n<p>Las vacas<br>\nno saben lo que es&nbsp;leche<br>\ny alqui\u00adlan pla\u00f1ideras<br>\nel llan\u00adto de sus&nbsp;ojos<\/p>\n<p>Est\u00e1<br>\nde&nbsp;moda<br>\nel&nbsp;nabo<br>\nla hari\u00adna de ra\u00edces<br>\nla dulce hierba<br>\nde los ribazos<\/p>\n<p>Las coci\u00adnas se&nbsp;ponen<br>\npelu\u00adcas de patatas<br>\nEl carb\u00f3n jue\u00adga al&nbsp;tenis<br>\ncon bolas de&nbsp;papel<br>\nLa gente como cabras<br>\nlamen un cubo de&nbsp;sal&nbsp;:<br>\nLa esperanza<\/p>\n<p>Se han muer\u00adto los zapatos<br>\nlas melo\u00addio\u00adsas&nbsp;nubes<br>\nde los cigar\u00adros&nbsp;puros<br>\nla tier\u00adna media&nbsp;luna<br>\ndel crois\u00adsant matinal<\/p>\n<p>Se ha muer\u00adto el chocolate<\/p>\n<p>Tele\u00adfo\u00adnea el m\u00e9dico<br>\nYa no vendr\u00e1<br>\n(Ped\u00eda un&nbsp;gallo)<\/p>\n<p>Que\u00addan los \u00e1rboles<br>\ndel parque<br>\nA la her\u00adma\u00adna malilla<br>\nle sentamos<br>\nuna rama de&nbsp;pino<br>\nen el&nbsp;pecho<\/p>\n<p>Tres a\u00f1os<br>\nla luz orde\u00f1a<br>\na los faroles<\/p>\n<p>Ya no asus\u00adta la muerte<br>\nLa esperamos<br>\ndeba\u00adjo de las s\u00e1banas<br>\ndesinteresados<br>\nleyen\u00addo su follet\u00edn<br>\naprisa<\/p>\n<p>Vie\u00adnen bombas<br>\nbien dispuestas<br>\narrul\u00adlan\u00addo compasivas<\/p>\n<p>Dos mil pesetas<br>\ny un par de pollos<br>\ncues\u00adta&nbsp;salir<br>\ndel infierno<\/p>\n<p>A ning\u00fan precio<br>\njab\u00f3n<br>\npara las manchas<\/p>\n<p>\u00bf Que har\u00eda&nbsp;aqu\u00ed<br>\nPilatos&nbsp;?<\/p>\n<p>Las cria\u00addas son\u00e1mbulas<br>\nse vuel\u00adven milicianas<br>\nLa nuestra<br>\ntiene un&nbsp;bot\u00f3n<br>\nde&nbsp;carne<br>\nen la espalda<\/p>\n<p>Las sire\u00adnas chirr\u00edan<br>\nsobre los muertos<\/p>\n<p>\u00a1 Bom\u00adbar\u00addeo&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Som\u00adbras chinescas<br>\nnos dan la&nbsp;mano<br>\nen la pared maestra<\/p>\n<p>Una veci\u00adna<br>\nsale gritando<br>\nen cueros<br>\n\u00a1 Hay&nbsp;moros<br>\nen la&nbsp;plaza<br>\nde Catalu\u00f1a&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Cada d\u00eda reparte<br>\npases de espectro<br>\nayes de herido<br>\nges\u00adtos de&nbsp;loco<br>\nmue\u00adcas de&nbsp;preso<\/p>\n<p>Y<br>\na<br>\nno<br>\nso<br>\ntros<\/p>\n<p>\u00a1 C\u00f3mo&nbsp;muda<br>\nun cor\u00adro de&nbsp;vicio<br>\na los peque\u00f1os&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Eso<br>\nnadie<br>\nlo cuenta<\/p>\n<p>C\u00f3mo la guer\u00adra&nbsp;pisa<br>\nla pureza<br>\ndel jilguero<\/p>\n<p>C\u00f3mo la primavera<br>\nse decapita<br>\nlos&nbsp;dedos<br>\nsobre el&nbsp;sexo<\/p>\n<p>El pri\u00admer&nbsp;d\u00eda<br>\n\u00a1 Qu\u00e9 surtidor<br>\nde&nbsp;pena&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Cam\u00adbia\u00admos<br>\nuna perrilla<br>\nde&nbsp;asco<br>\ncontra un&nbsp;gramo<br>\nde llanto<\/p><\/poesie>\n<p>Juan Penal\u00adver<\/p>\n<p>(Del libro in\u00e9di\u00adto \u00ab&nbsp;Dia\u00adrio de Guer\u00adra de un&nbsp;ni\u00f1o&nbsp;\u00bb)<\/p>\n<h2>Myst\u00e8re de la&nbsp;faim<\/h2>\n<poesie>Le pain est&nbsp;mort\n<p>Les vaches<br>\nne savent plus ce qu\u2019est le&nbsp;lait<br>\net louent plaintives<br>\nles larmes de leurs&nbsp;yeux<\/p>\n<p>La mode<br>\nest au&nbsp;navet<br>\naux farines de racines<br>\naux douces herbes<br>\ndes&nbsp;rives<\/p>\n<p>Les cui\u00adsines se mettent<br>\ndes per\u00adruques de patates<br>\nLe char\u00adbon joue au tennis<br>\navec des boules de papier<br>\nLes gens comme des ch\u00e8vres<br>\nl\u00e8chent un bloc de&nbsp;sel&nbsp;:<br>\nL\u2019esp\u00e9rance<\/p>\n<p>Morts aus\u00adsi les souliers<br>\nLes m\u00e9lo\u00addieux nuages<br>\ndes cigares de havane<br>\nla tendre demi-lune<br>\ndu crois\u00adsant matinal<\/p>\n<p>Mort le chocolat<\/p>\n<p>Au t\u00e9l\u00e9\u00adphone<br>\nle m\u00e9de\u00adcin ne vien\u00addra&nbsp;pas<br>\n(il vou\u00adlait un poulet)<\/p>\n<p>Il n\u2019y a&nbsp;plus<br>\nque les arbres<br>\ndu jardin<\/p>\n<p>La petite s\u0153ur malade<br>\nNous lui posons<br>\nune branche de&nbsp;pin<br>\nsur la poitrine<\/p>\n<p>Voi\u00adl\u00e0 trois&nbsp;ans<br>\nque la lumi\u00e8re trait<br>\nles r\u00e9verb\u00e8res<\/p>\n<p>Nous n\u2019avons plus peur de la&nbsp;mort<br>\nNous l\u2019attendons<br>\nsous nos&nbsp;draps<br>\nblas\u00e9s<br>\nparcourant<br>\nson feuilleton<\/p>\n<p>Il tombe des bombes<br>\nbien dispos\u00e9es<br>\nqui roucoulent<br>\ncompatissantes<\/p>\n<p>Vingt mille francs<br>\net deux poulets<br>\npour sor\u00adtir de l\u2019enfer<\/p>\n<p>Sans prix<br>\nle&nbsp;savon<br>\npour les taches<br>\nQue ferait ici<br>\nPilate&nbsp;?<\/p>\n<p>Les domes\u00adtiques somnambules<br>\nse font miliciennes<br>\nLa&nbsp;n\u00f4tre<br>\na un bouton<br>\nde&nbsp;chair<br>\nsur le&nbsp;dos<\/p>\n<p>Les sir\u00e8nes crissent<br>\nsur les&nbsp;morts<\/p>\n<p>Bom\u00adbar\u00adde\u00adment&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Des ombres chinoises<br>\nnous donnent la&nbsp;main<br>\ncontre la ma\u00e7onnerie<\/p>\n<p>Une voi\u00adsine<br>\nsort toute&nbsp;nue<br>\nqui&nbsp;crie&nbsp;:<br>\nIl y a des Maures<br>\nsur la place de Catalogne&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Chaque jour distribue<br>\ndes bons de spectres<br>\ndes plaintes de bless\u00e9s<br>\ndes ges\u00adti\u00adcu\u00adla\u00adtions de&nbsp;fous<br>\ndes gri\u00admaces de prisonniers<\/p>\n<p>Et<br>\nnous<br>\nles<br>\npe<br>\ntits<\/p>\n<p>com\u00adbien nous change<br>\nla ronde du&nbsp;vice&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>\u00c7a<br>\npersonne<br>\nn\u2019en&nbsp;parle<\/p>\n<p>Comme la guerre foule<br>\nla puret\u00e9<br>\ndu passereau<\/p>\n<p>Comme le printemps<br>\nse d\u00e9capite<br>\nles doigts<br>\nsur le&nbsp;sexe<\/p>\n<p>Le pre\u00admier&nbsp;jour<br>\nquel jaillissement<br>\nde&nbsp;peine&nbsp;!<\/p>\n<p>Nous \u00e9chan\u00adgeons<br>\nune pi\u00e9cette<br>\nde d\u00e9go\u00fbt<br>\ncontre un gramme de larmes<\/p><\/poesie>\n<p>Juan Penal\u00adver<br>\n(Tra\u00adduc\u00adtion d\u2019Andr\u00e9 Belamich)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00c0 Anto\u00adnio Macha\u00addo \u00a1 Padre y pan de la poe\u00adsia&nbsp;! Lunes sin&nbsp;voz y martes sin razones, mi\u00e9r\u00adcoles sin His\u00adto\u00adria\u2026 \u00a1 Oh reloj grave jun\u00adto al r\u00edo que&nbsp;huye&nbsp;! \u00a1 Oh reloj en ace\u00adcho, pal\u00adpi\u00adtante&nbsp;reloj paciente tiem\u00adpo espe\u00adran\u00addo&nbsp;matar con sus agu\u00adjas&nbsp;fr\u00edas al rojo toro ib\u00e9\u00adri\u00adco tra\u00adba\u00addo en el aleve coso de Occi\u00addente&nbsp;! \u00a1 Oh rapaz vien\u00adto,&nbsp;rosa&nbsp;[\u2026]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"wp_typography_post_enhancements_disabled":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[93],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[540],"class_list":["post-831","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-temoins-n12-13-printemps-ete-1956"],"authors":[{"term_id":540,"user_id":1,"is_guest":0,"slug":"admin_3gikpwyf","display_name":"Vincent Dubuc","avatar_url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/d015720652c25fd2ced191ade86430094e1f288a17483713e3b34d26dea52507?s=96&d=mm&r=g","author_category":"","user_url":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net","last_name":"Dubuc","first_name":"Vincent","job_title":"","description":""}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/831","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=831"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/831\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=831"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=831"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=831"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/la-presse-anarchiste.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ppma_author?post=831"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}