This poem forms part of Herodias, of which we possess only two fragments. It treats, therefore, of St. John the Baptist. The essential idea of the poem was evidently suggested to Mallarmé by the fact that St. John's Day coincides well enough with the summer solstice. It consists then of a single metahor which compares on the one hand the sun's trajectory, first ascending and then descending after an imperceptible halt, a hesitation at the culminating point and moment of supreme exaltation (implied in the word solstice)—and, on the other hand, the trajectory traced by the head of St. John at the moment of decollation.

The first stanza, with admirable brevity, sets forth the theme of ascension and descent (the latter rendered more abrupt by the rhythm). This gives the first, the sun-term of the metaphor. The second stanza expresses the sensations of decollation. With the third stanza the head begins its solitary wide-eyed ('vigie') ascent; the strange use of the word 'scythe' in place of the more appropriate word 'sword' is to be explained first as the symbol of Death; secondly, this blade, shaped like a long-pointed wing, permits the expression "triumphant flights" which poetically reinforces the uprush of the head. But the head is the seat of the spirit and soul; thus decollation and ascension prolong and consecrate, by this 'rupture clean,' the Saint's ancient struggle between flesh and spirit. Asceticism, fasting, and the ascent towards the light and frozen purity ('surpassing that of glaciers') complete with each other reciprocally and find their symbol in the leap of the head towards the heights. These ideas inform the movement of the third, fourth and fifth stanzas. Now the culminating point is reached:  as the sun decends again, the head falls. In this fall it bows and appears to bend so as to receive baptism. And such indeed it receives, and by its inclination salutes the first principle, God and sun—which christens it with its rays. As in the first stanza, where the theme is given, and in conformity with the constantly repeated rhythm, the movement of the end is much more abrupt than that of the ascent. So strict a correspondence, so severe an architechtural design give to this short piece a plenitude which astonishes one at each fresh reading. Irresistibly one thinks of J. S. Bach. Note.—If the poem were punctuated there would be a full stop after the fourth stanza. At the beginning of the fifth, in the French 'Qu'elle' marks an exclamation; 'elle' ('it') refers back to 'tête' ('head') of the third stanza.

Charles Mauron (1936)