Friday, January 02, 2004
A Page From The Romantic - Oh to live with such fervor and accomplish even a portion!
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), one of the most famous composers in history died at the age of 57. Upon his death, a love letter was found among his possessions written to an unknown woman who Beethoven simply called his 'Immortal Beloved'.
We will likely never put a face with this mysterious woman or know the circumstances of their affair, and his letters are all that is left of a love as intensely passionate as his music.
What letters do you have lurking about in old shoe boxes or hidden drawers?
July 6, 1806
My angel, my all, my very self -- only a few words today and at that with your pencil -- not till tomorrow will my lodgings be definitely determined upon -- what a useless waste of time. Why this deep sorrow where necessity speaks -- can our love endure except through sacrifices -- except through not demanding everything -- can you change it that you are not wholly mine, I not wholly thine?
Oh, God! Look out into the beauties of nature and comfort yourself with that which must be -- love demands everything and that very justly -- that it is with me so far as you are concerned, and you with
Me. If we were wholly united you would feel the pain of it as little as I!
Now a quick change to things internal from things external. We shall surely see each other; moreover, I cannot communicate to you the observations I have made during the last few days touching my own life -- if our hearts were always close together I would make none of the kind. My heart is full of many things to say to you - Ah! -- there are moments when I feel that speech is nothing after all -- cheer up -- remain my true, only treasure, my all as I am yours; the gods must send us the rest that which shall be best for us.
- posted by -g @ 11:52 AM | | 0 rocks in pond
diarrhea of the brain
bad haiku daily
emily joy joy
|design by: dan|