Mozart, Napoleon, Jack London ... How they loved their women: sometimes they behaved stupidly and recklessly, they were jealous and angry, but how they loved! Our program has started. And we decided to tune our members to work with love letters from great people from the past. We share this inspiration with you. SMS-ki have a rest 😉

Dear little wife, I have some errands for you. I beg you:

1.do not fall into melancholy,
2.take care of your health and beware of spring winds,
3.do not go for a walk alone - or even better, do not go for a walk at all,
4. be completely confident in my love. I write all the letters to you, placing your portrait in front of me.

6. And in the end, I ask you to write me more detailed letters. I really want to know if brother-in-law Hofer came to visit us the day after my departure? Does he come often as he promised me? Do the Langeses come in sometimes? How is the work on the portrait going? How do you live? All this naturally interests me greatly.

5. I beg you to behave in such a way that neither your nor my good name is damaged, also watch how it looks from the outside. Do not be angry with me for such a request. You must love me even more because I care about our honor with you.

V.A. Mozart

I don't love you anymore ... On the contrary, I hate you. You are a vile, stupid, ridiculous woman. You don't write to me at all, you don't love your husband. You know how much joy your letters give him, and you cannot write even six cursory lines.

But what do you do all day, madam? What urgent matters take your time, prevent you from writing to your very good lover?

What prevents your tender and devoted love, which you promised him? Who is this new seducer, new lover, who pretends to all your time, not letting you deal with your spouse? Josephine, beware: one fine night I will break down your doors and appear before you.

In fact, my dear friend, I am worried that I do not receive news from you, write me four pages quickly, and only about those pleasant things that will fill my heart with joy and tenderness.

I hope to soon embrace you and cover you with a million kisses, burning like the rays of the sun at the equator.

Bonaparte

I sincerely ask you, madam, a thousand times forgiveness for these stupid anonymous verses that sound like childishness, but what to do? I am as selfish as children and sick people. When I suffer, I think of the people I love. I almost always think about you in poetry, and when the poems are ready, I cannot resist the desire to show them to the one who inspired them to me. And at the same time, I myself am hiding, like a person who is insanely afraid of the funny - isn't there some funny element in love? - especially for those whom she did not touch.

But I swear to you that I will explain myself for the last time; and if my ardent sympathy for you lasts as long as it lasted before I said one word to you, we will live with you to old age.

No matter how ridiculous all this may seem to you, imagine that there is a heart over which you could not laugh without cruelty, and in which your image is imprinted forever.

Une fois, une seule, aimable et bonne femme
A mon bras votre bras poli.

i just got your letter. It calmed me down, now I know how you and the children are doing. It was as if I saw my dear family in front of me and heard you all talking to me together ...

Last night I had a dream that I was in Newton, in the room where you and a few other people were. And you decided that the moment was right to announce that you are no longer my wife and want to marry another man. You delivered the news with such absolute calmness and composure — not only to me, but to the whole company — that it paralyzed all my thoughts and feelings. I had absolutely no idea what to say.

Then a woman told those present that with this state of affairs, that is, with your refusal to be my wife, I automatically become her husband. Turning to me, she very coldly asked which of us would inform about my mother's wedding! How we divided the children, I do not know. I only know that my heart suddenly seemed to have broken off the chain, I began to scream, protest and threw a tantrum, in the midst of which I woke up. However, the feeling of unspoken resentment and gross insult hovered over me for a long time, and even now it has not disappeared. You mustn't act so imprudent when you come into my dreams.

Oh, Phoebe [moon goddess], I want you very much. You are the only person in the world that I need. Other people are more or less bearable. But I probably always endured loneliness much more easily than anyone's company, until I met you. Now I am me only when you are with me. You are the most beloved woman. How could you scare me like that in my sleep?

Your husband

Dear Anna: Did I say that all people can be divided into types? If I did, then let me clarify - not all. You slip away, I cannot classify you, I cannot see through you. I can boast that out of 10 people, I can predict the behavior of nine. From what I said and what I did, I can guess the heart rate of nine out of ten people. But the tenth is a mystery to me, I am desperate because it is above me. You are this tenth.

Has it ever happened that two silent souls, so dissimilar, so fit together? Of course, we often feel the same way, but even when we feel something differently, we still understand each other, even though we do not have a common language. We don't need words spoken out loud. We are too incomprehensible and mysterious for this. The Lord must be laughing when he sees our silent action.

The only glimpse of common sense in all this is that we both have a fierce temperament, huge enough that we could be understood. True, we often understand each other, but with elusive glimpses, vague sensations, as if ghosts, while we doubt, haunt us with their perception of the truth. And yet I dare not believe that you are the tenth person whose behavior I cannot predict.

Even in bed, my thoughts fly to you, my Immortal Love! I am seized by that joy, then sadness in anticipation of what fate prepares for us. I can either live with you or not live at all. Yes, I have decided to wander away from you until then, until I am able to fly in and throw myself into your arms, feel you completely mine and enjoy this bliss. It should be. You will agree to this, because you do not doubt my loyalty to you; never another will take over my heart, never, never. Oh, God, why part with what you love so much!

The life that I now lead in V. is hard. Your love makes me the happiest and the most unfortunate person at the same time. In my age, some monotony, stability of life is already required, but are they possible with our relationship? My angel, now I only found out that the mail leaves every day, I must finish so that you will receive the letter as soon as possible. Be calm; be calm, love me always.

What a longing desire to see you! You are my Life is my Everything is goodbye. Love me as before - never doubt the loyalty of your loved one

AND.
Yours forever
Forever mine
Forever we are ours.

Sofya Andreevna, I feel unbearable. For three weeks I have been saying every day: today I’ll say everything, and I leave with the same longing, repentance, fear and happiness in my soul. And every night, like now, I go over the past, suffer and say: why did I not say, and how, and what I would say. I take this letter with me in order to give it to you, if again I cannot, or if I lack the spirit to tell you everything. The false view of your family on me is the way it seems to me that I am in love with your sister Lisa. It’s not fair.

Your story stuck in my head, because, after reading it, I was convinced that I, Dublitsky, should not dream of happiness, that your excellent poetic demands for love ... that I do not envy and will not envy the one you are love. It seemed to me that I could rejoice in you as children.

In Ivice I wrote: "Your presence reminds me too vividly of my old age, and it is you." But then and now I lied to myself. Even then, I could have cut everything off and again go to my monastery of lonely labor and passion for work. Now I can’t do anything, but I feel that I’ve got it wrong in your family; that a simple, dear relationship with you as a friend, an honest person is lost. And I can't hoot and I dare not stay. You are an honest person, hand on heart, not in a hurry, for God's sake, not in a hurry, tell me what to do? What you laugh at, you will work. I would have died laughing if a month ago they had told me that you can suffer as I suffer, and I am happily suffering this time.

Tell me, as an honest man, do you want to be my wife? Only if from the bottom of your heart, you can boldly say: yes, otherwise it is better to say: no, if you have a shadow of self-doubt. For God's sake, ask yourself well. I will be scared to hear: no, but I foresee it and find the strength to take it down. But if my husband never loves me as I love, it will be awful!

Livi honey

six years have passed since I achieved my first success in life and won you, and thirty years have passed since Providence made the necessary preparations for this happy day, sending you into this world. Every day we have lived together adds to my confidence that we will never part with each other, that we will not regret for a second that we have connected our lives.

Every year I love you, my baby, more and more. Today you are dearer to me than on your last birthday, a year ago you were dearer than two years ago - I have no doubt that this wonderful movement will continue until the very end.

Let's look ahead - at future anniversaries, at the coming old age and gray hair - without fear and despondency. Trusting each other and firmly knowing that the love that each of us carries in our hearts is enough to fill all the years allotted to us with happiness.

So, with great love for you and children, I greet this day, which gives you the grace of a respectable lady and the dignity of three decades!

Always yours
S.L.K.

You expect only a few words from me. What will they be? When the heart is full, it can overflow, but the real fullness will remain inside ... No words will say ... how dear you are to me - dear to my soul and heart. I look back and in every moment, in every phrase you said and every gesture, in every letter, in your silence, I see your perfection.

I do not want to change my word or appearance. My hope and goal is to preserve our love, not to betray it. I rely on God, who gave it to me and, undoubtedly, will help to save it. That's enough, my dear Ba! You gave me the highest, most complete proof of love that only one person can give to another. I am grateful - and proud to be the reward of my life.

Sweet Fanny,

are you sometimes afraid that I do not love you as much as you wish? Dear girl, I have loved you forever and unconditionally. The more I get to know you, the more I love you. All my actions - even my jealousy - are a manifestation of Love; in her fiery flame I can die for you.

I have brought you a lot of suffering. But Love is to blame! What can I do? You are always new. Your last kisses were the sweetest, your last smile the brightest; the last gestures are the most graceful.

When you passed my window last night, I was overwhelmed with such admiration, as if I saw you for the first time. You once complained to me that I love only your Beauty. Do I have nothing more to love about you, but only this? Can't I see a heart with wings that have taken my freedom? No worries could turn your thoughts away from me for a moment.

This may be regrettable, not joyful, but that's not what I'm talking about. Even if you did not love me, I would not be able to overcome my complete devotion to you: how much deeper must my feeling for you be if I know that I am loved by you. My Mind is disturbed and worried, moreover, it is found in a body that is too small.

I have never felt that my Mind received full and perfect pleasure from anything - from no one other than you. When you are in the room, my thoughts do not scatter, all my feelings are concentrated. The concern about our Love that I caught in your last note is an endless pleasure for me. However, you must no longer suffer from such suspicions; I believe you unconditionally, and you have no reason to take offense at me. Brown is gone, but Mrs. Wiley is here; when she leaves, I will be especially vigilant for you. Bow to your mother. J. Keats, who loves you.

My dear Josephine,

i'm afraid you got wet last night, because as soon as the door of my house closed behind you, it started raining. I take this opportunity to return your hat and express the hope that everything is in order with you this morning and that you have not caught a cold.

I tried to talk to your Hat. Asked her how many gentle gazes directed below her fields she had seen; how many tender words she heard next to her; how many times she was thrown into the air in moments of delight and triumph. And did it happen (and if it did, then when) tremble from the feelings that overwhelmed her mistress. But she proved that she knows how to keep secrets, and did not answer any of my questions. All I had to do was try to catch her off guard by pronouncing different names one after the other. For a long time she remained unperturbed, but suddenly, hearing one name, she definitely shuddered and her ribbons fluttered!

I wished her all the best. I hope that she will never cover her sick head, and the eyes that she protects from the sun's rays will never know tears, but only joy and love.

Dear Josephine, best wishes,
Your Daniel Webster

My dear Emma,

all your letters, letters dear to me, are so entertaining and so fully reveal your essence that, after reading them, I experience either the greatest pleasure or the greatest pain. This is another best thing to be with you.

I only wish, my dear Emma, \u200b\u200bthat you always believe that Nelson is yours; Nelson's alpha and omega is Emma. I cannot change - my affection and love for you lies outside this world! Nothing can break it, only you alone. But I don’t allow myself to think about it for a moment.

I feel that you are a true friend of my soul and dearer to me than life itself; I am the same for you. Nobody can compare with you.

I'm glad you made such an enjoyable trip to Norfolk. I hope one day to catch you there and bind you with the bonds of the law, stronger than the bonds of love and affection that unite us now ...

I cannot leave without telling you a few words. So, my darling, you expect a lot of good from me. Your happiness, even your life, depends, as you say, on my love for you!

Fear nothing, my dear Sophie; my love will last forever, you will live and be happy. I have never done anything wrong and I am not going to step on this road. I am all yours - you are everything to me. We will support each other in all the troubles that fate may send us. You will ease my suffering; I will help you in yours. I can always see you as you were lately! As for me, you must admit that I have remained the same as you saw me on the first day of our acquaintance.

This is not only my merit, but for the sake of justice I must tell you about it. Every day I feel more and more alive. I am confident in loyalty to you and appreciate your merits more and more every day. I am confident in your consistency and appreciate it. No one’s passion had any greater foundation than mine. Dear Sophie, you are very beautiful, aren't you? Observe yourself - see how it goes for you to be in love; and know that I love you very much. It is a constant expression of my feelings.

Good night, my dear Sophie. I am happy as only a man can be who knows that the most beautiful woman loves him.

Happy Birthday, Princess!

We grow old and get used to each other. We think alike. We read each other's thoughts. We know what the other wants without asking. Sometimes we annoy each other a little - and maybe sometimes we take each other for granted.

But sometimes, like today, I think about it and realize how lucky I am to share my life with the greatest woman I have ever met. You still delight and inspire me.

You change me for the better. You are my desired, the main meaning of my existence. I love you very much.

Happy Birthday, Princess.

Their fate is ruled by the crown, free time by the throne, but the heart cannot have any other ruler except Love. History knows many examples of how monarchs renounced the inherited throne in the name of the strongest of all feelings and threw their lives at the feet of their beloved, offering to walk along it hand in hand.

Who knows what was really going on in the soul of some Spanish king, who sat on the throne during the military campaigns of his compatriots or the queen during the next popular revolt? A princess forced to observe strict protocol at a protracted formal reception, when more than anything else she would like to be in the arms of her beloved? The padishah, who was unable to concentrate while reading an ancient treatise? They know - paper witnesses of silent tears and joyful aspirations, night vigils and painful expectations, boudoir secrets and beloved eyes full of hope ...

The world is ruled by Love, and this will change neither the throne, nor the status, nor the next era that has replaced, nor the progressive age of digital technologies, and the love letters of the great monarchs are another confirmation of this.

Queen of hearts

The history of the couple Henry VIII - Anne Boleyn was overgrown with such myths and legends that no Ancient Greece dreamed of: the former favorite, accused of her finale of adultery and a number of other deadly sins, and then the queen, over the years of short reign, the heart of the English monarch managed (by accident or deliberately) to move his lawful wife Catherine and his sister Mary, who was aiming at him, from the throne, weave a tangle of court scandals, intrigues and investigations and be a prisoner in the gloomy Tower. Although Henry VIII pops up in the minds of historians in the form of an inevitable association with the words "tyrant and despot", he wrote the most tender letters to his lady.

Henry VIII - Anne Boleyn

My lady and friend

My heart and I surrender to your mercy and beg for your goodwill, which may not weaken in separation, as this will increase our pain, which would be very sad, because your absence gives us enough suffering, suffering more than I thought possible experience. One fact from astronomy comes to mind, which is the following: the farther the poles are from the sun, the stronger the heat that burns them. Likewise with our love: distances have separated us, but despite this, passion only intensifies, at least from my side. I hope you are experiencing the same, and I assure you that the agony associated with your absence is so great that it would be simply unbearable if it were not for the firm hope of the indissoluble love that you have for me. Wanting to remind you of her, as well as from the fact that I do not have the opportunity to be with you personally, I am sending you the most similar, close thing - that is, my portrait, and the full motto, already known to you, engraved on bracelets, wishing to be in the place of the latter when you have that pleasure.

Written by the hand of your servant and friend

Photo source: www.omsk-kprf.ru, www.tudorplace.com.ar

With love, yours forever

Bonaparte made Napoleonic plans not only in the military field, but also on his personal front: he chose as his wife a beautiful brunette, a society lady and a trendsetter of Marie Rose's fashion Joseph Tachet de la Pajeris - in adolescence she was divined by an old black woman “to be more than queen. " Her closest friend takes her in her salon with a young general who is destined to reshape world history in his own way. Without changing the essence of her beloved - Marie Rose, who had been in prison by that time and by chance, escaped execution and without his help knew how to turn any adventures and enter into profitable love unions, Bonaparte changes her name: according to his unquestioning desire, she becomes Josephine even for old friends ... The subsequent correspondence of Josephine and Bonaparte during the countless Napoleonic military campaigns, like their new names, will subsequently take its place in history.

Napoleon Bonaparte - Josephine

There was not a day that I did not love you; there was no night without me squeezing you in my arms. I don't even drink a cup of tea, so as not to curse my pride and ambition, which force me to stay away from you, my soul. In the midst of the service, standing at the head of the army or checking the camps, I feel that my heart is occupied only by my beloved Josephine. It robs me of my mind, fills my thoughts. If I move away from you at the speed of Rhone's current, it only means that I may soon see you. If I get up in the middle of the night to sit down to work, it’s because this can bring the moment of returning to you closer, my love. In your letter dated 23 and 26 Vantose, you address me as "you". "You"? Oh, damn it! How could you write that? How cold it is! And then these four days between the 23rd and the 26th; what were you doing, why didn't you have time to write to your husband? ..

Ah, my love, this is "You", these four days make me forget about my former carelessness. Woe to the one who caused this! Hell's torment is nothing! The serpentine furies are nothing! "You"! "You"! Oh! And what will happen in a week or two? .. My soul is heavy; my heart is in chains; my fantasies terrify me ... You love me less and less; and you will easily recover from the loss. When you completely stop loving me, at least tell me about it; then I will know how I deserve this misfortune ...

Farewell, my wife, torment, joy, hope and the driving force of my life, the one I love, which I fear, which fills me with tender feelings that bring me closer to Nature, and violent impulses, stormy, like furious thunderclaps. I do not demand from you either eternal love or loyalty, I ask only ... truth, absolute honesty. The day when you say: “I stopped loving you” - will mark the end of my love and the last day of my life. If my heart were so despicable as to love without reciprocity, I would have ordered it to be plucked from me. Josephine! Josephine! Do you remember what I told you once: nature has awarded me a strong, unshakable soul. And she fashioned you out of lace and air. Have you stopped loving me? Forgive me, love of my life, my soul is torn.

My heart, which belongs to you, is full of fear and longing ... It hurts me that you do not call me by name. I'll be waiting for you to write it.

Goodbye! Oh, if you stopped loving me, then you never loved me! And I will have something to regret!

Bonaparte

Photo source: dic.academic.ru, serg-was.livejournal.com

I am writing to you

At the court of the new favorite of Catherine II, they sarcastically called the next "case", and the fact that the "case" lingered in favor with the empress for many years was explained by his enterprise and ability to win over the empress with jokes and fun. In fact, this was not limited to: the shrewd Catherine, although not immediately, managed to appreciate the extraordinary mental and military abilities of the mature general who returned after the battle with the Turks, who for the first time laid eyes on "mother", as he himself called her in letters. while still a 22-year-old participant in a coup d'état, as a result of which the empress became such. Raised to the favorites, Potemkin incurred the wrath of the Orlov brothers, who were close to the royal heart, but did not grieve for a long time: they saved numerous promotions, appointments, awards and liberties bestowed by the great generosity.

Catherine the Great to Prince Grigory Potemkin

November 15 h. 1789

My dear friend, Prince Grigory Alexandrovich. It is not for nothing that I love and favor you, you completely justify my choice and my opinion about you; you are by no means a braggart, and you fulfilled all the assumptions, and the Caesarians taught the Turks to defeat; God helps and blesses you, you cover with glory, I am sending you the laurel crown that you deserve (but it is not ready yet); Now, my friend, I ask you, do not be arrogant, do not be proud, but show the light the greatness of your soul, which in happiness is just as unadvised as it does not lose heart in failure. Il n'y a pas de douceur mon ami que je ne voudrais vous dire: Vous etes charmant d'avoir pris Benders sans qu'il en aye coute un seul homme.

Your diligence and labor would multiply my gratitude, if it were not already such that it can no longer increase. I ask God to strengthen your strength; I was very worried about your illness, however, not having letters from you for more than two weeks, I thought I was fiddling around Bender, or I started peace negotiations. Now I see that my guess was not without foundation. I will impatiently await Popov's arrival; Be sure that for your entrusted army generals I will do everything that is possible, evenly for the army: their labors and zeal deserve it. As I will receive the promised note on the Caesar's awards, I will also tell you my opinion.

I am curious to see the letters of the Volossky ruler and the former captain-pasha about the truce and your answers; all this already has the smell of the world, and thus is not disgusting. The plan for Poland, as I receive it, I will consider it and will not leave you, as soon as possible, to give a decisive answer. In Finland, it is extremely necessary to change the boss; you cannot rely on the current one for anything; to Nyshlot I myself was forced to send salt from here, for people are without salt in the fortress; I ordered the meat to be given to the people, and he put the meat in Vyborg, where the meat rotted without benefit; will not decide on anything; in a word, he is incapable of leadership, and under him the generals play pranks and intrigue, but do not do things when it is proper; from this you can judge how many changes need to be made there. The young fellow sent from you, I bestowed the colonel and the adjutant in the wing for good news. L'enfant * trouve que Vous avez plus d'esprit et que Vous etes plus amusant et plus aimable, que tous ceux qui Vous entourent; mais sur cegi gardez nous le secret car il ignore que je sais cela; they are extremely grateful for your very affectionate welcome; their brother Dimitri marries Vyazemsky's third daughter.

Photo source: www.maxibalttours.com, liveinternet.ru

Poste restante

The documentary evidence of the connection between Henry Frederick, brother of George III, and the married Lady Grosvenor, which you will now read, was the reason that their novel became publicly known and, as it should, disgraced. In order to see eyes dear to his heart, the poor Duke of Cumberland had to try on a peasant dress: in this form, he could remain more invisible, and at the same time - close to his beloved Henrietta. Having learned about the secret passion, Lord Grosvenor immediately transferred its juicy details to the court, and the ill-fated letters gave weight to his words. Henry Frederick was ordered to pay 10 thousand pounds, but they did not promise to consign the offense to oblivion: the whole of London was washing the bones of the whole love triangle for a long time, having read excerpts of the correspondence from newspapers exposed to general condemnation.

Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland - Lady Grosvenor

My dear little angel!

I wrote you last letter yesterday, at eleven o'clock in the evening, just as we were sailing. At two o'clock I had dinner, enjoyed the music in the afternoon, I have a personal servant on board who knows how to play music ... At about ten I went to bed - I prayed for you, my love, kissed your precious lock, went to bed and dreamed of you. I saw you in a dream on our little bed, and a thousand times I hugged and kissed you, and said how much I love you and admire you. You were so lovely, but alas, when I woke up, I discovered that all this is an illusion and that there is no one near me, only the sea around ... I am sure that these days' activities do not bring you pleasure, my love, just like And me. Since I promised to always inform you of my mood and thoughts, I keep my promise and will keep it until the very last letter that goes from me to you.

When I return to you, I will, like crazy, endlessly repeat: oh, my love - and tell how I love you, and that I have been constantly thinking about you from the very moment we parted ...

I hope you are healthy, and I am sure - I do not need to tell you again that my thoughts are entirely occupied by you, all the long time that remains before our meeting, I will take care of myself, because you wish it, my dear little friend , angel of my heart. Do you take care of yourself, my dear, for the sake of your faithful servant, who lives only to love you, admire you and bless the moment in which you generously agreed to be mine. I hope, my dear, you never have to regret it ...

Of course, my dear angel, there is no need for me to tell you about — I know you understand too well — what made me write to you. God knows, I have not written to anyone else, and I will not write to anyone else, except for the King. Be healthy, the most delightful creature of all living, my dear ...

May the blessing of the Lord be with you until the moment when I can send you a message again. I will write to you every day, as many days in a row as you miss me, and all my letters will arrive on Friday, June 16th. God bless you. I will never forget you, God knows; You once told me that I have your heart, it warms my chest with its warmth. I hope this is why my heart feels so light and happy, goodbye.

Without many words

As can be seen from the following love letter, the politician, writer, lawyer and an excellent orator Gaius Pliny Tsitsiliy Secund did not forget about his wife for a second - except for the necessary periods of work activity or rest in a friendly company. Pliny the Younger is not at all the native son of Pliny the Elder, who gloriously worked on the notorious "Natural History": his real father was a patrician who came from the north of modern Italy. Pliny the Elder, who died in the eruption of Vesuvius, was Gaius Pliny Cicily Secundus's uncle. Calpurnia is the last of the three wives of Pliny the Younger, whose love can be judged by the bundles that have come down to us.

Pliny the Younger - to Calpurnia's wife

You may not believe, but longing for you has completely taken over me. The main reason for this is my love; besides, we are not used to being apart. At night I hardly sleep, thinking about you, but during the day my legs carry me (a good word, namely, they carry me) to your room, just at the hour when I usually came to you. I see that the room is empty, and I leave it with pain and longing in my soul, like a lover who was kicked out the door. The only time free from torment is when I exhaust myself with work or rest with friends. Judge for yourself what my life is like if I find peace only in hard work, and consolation in discouragement and agonizing anxiety. Bye.

Together forever

The story of Alice of Hesse-Darmstadt reminds all the stories of foreign princesses in Russia: she came from afar, was not immediately adopted by crowned relatives, got married, learned Russian, fell in love with Russia with all her heart and more than her homeland. The wedding of Nicholas II and the newly-made empress was a symbolic harbinger of the future tragic fate of the family: it was played, barely escorting Alexander III to another world. Alexandra Feodorovna was devoted to Nikolai all her life and loved him until her death, and the end of this story is notorious.

Empress Alexandra Feodorovna to Emperor Nicholas II

My priceless treasure!

You will read these lines while lying in bed in a strange place in an unfamiliar house. God grant that the trip was pleasant and interesting, and not too tiring or too dusty. I am very glad that I have a map and that I can follow you on it hourly. I will miss you terribly. But for you I am glad that you will be away for two days - you will get new impressions and will not listen to Anya's * inventions.

My soul is heavy and painful. Why is a good attitude and love always so rewarded? Black family first, but now she? You are constantly being told that you are not loving enough. After all, we gave her access to our hearts, to our home, even to our private life - and here is our reward for everything! It is difficult not to feel bitterness - the injustice is very cruel. May God have mercy on us and may He help us - it's so hard on the soul! I am desperate that she causes you torment and bothers you with unpleasant conversations that rob you of your peace. Try to forget about it during these two days.

I bless you, baptize and hug you tightly - kiss you all with endless love and devotion. Tomorrow morning at 9 o'clock I'll go to church, I'll try to go there on Thursday. Praying for you is my joy when we are apart. I can't get used to even the shortest time to be in the house without you, although I have our five treasures with me.

Sleep well, my sun, my precious one - your old Wife sends you a thousand tender kisses.

God bless and keep you!

Photo source: tashusik.livejournal.com, mr.gxiang.net

No matter what

The example of Emperor Alexander II, who, despite the 27th anniversary of his marriage with Empress Maria Alexandrova, was inflamed with an ardent feeling for his favorite Ekaterina Dolgorukova, also tells us that love is submissive and powerful of this world. After the death of their first wife, Catherine and the emperor enter into a morganatic marriage, which, however, did not bring them long-term happiness: the Narodnaya Volya member Grinevitsky makes an attempt on Alexander's life, and he dies just a year after reuniting with Dolgorukova.

Alexander II to Ekaterina Dolgorukova

After returning from a morning walk in the park, overflowing with happiness, I took up my favorite pastime - reading your letter. It was the day of my return, but I was in no hurry. My thoughts were full of my dear little imp, as usual, who would forgive me and promise even more pleasure than in our first meeting.

And, my Angel, I give you a promise that we will again be in each other's arms with the same happiness as before, but remaining prudent because of your m.d.f., whom you love very much. But it was still sweet for us to find ourselves together after all that we endured after Paris. But nothing can compare to the joy of what we do. We are two thirsty people who cannot wait for the moment of union with one another, and we are inseparable forever, feeling the happiness of being a husband and wife before God.

ABOUT! Thank you, thank you, dear Angel, for all these tender memories that brought me so much pleasure, like everything that my sweet wife brings me, who is the center of my life. And I am happy and proud to be her husband before God. It is not our fault that we missed our happiness. Nothing can interfere with our happiness. I so love the happy memories you give me. I cannot find anything like that in my life with Maria, although I may have forgotten about them in our nest.<...> I hug you, my soul Katya, and I am happy that I am yours forever.

Age of love

The incredible love story of Suleiman the Magnificent and his concubine Alexandra Anastasia Lisowska, full of passion and betrayal, hot blood and cold revenge, happiness and disappointment, was followed by a record number of pairs of eyes from viewers around the world, numbering tens of millions. As a result, they decided to repeat the show of the sensational series, not sparing prime time, and to popularize the main characters: multi-page "works" with pseudo-historical data about the love affair of the ruler of the Ottoman Empire and the girls with Slavic roots who had come a long way from the harem to the throne were sold out like hot cakes, and official and illegal merch - and at all at the speed of light. It is known that Sultan Suleiman Khan Khazretleri, under the pseudonym Muhibbi, wrote for his beloved a whole collection of love lyrics, which turned out to be figurative and poetic in an oriental way.

Sultan Suleiman - Hurrem

You are my musk and amber light, you are my beloved soul,
You are my real star, you are the light of the shining moon
You are my close friend of mine
My Sultana, all the more beautiful in the world and in the darkness of centuries,
You are my life and being, you are my elixir and heaven in the world,
You are my joy and spring, you are my joy and fun,
My noise and din, my soul, you are a ray of light in the dark kingdom,
You are my sun and beauty, my orange and my pomegranate,
You are the light in my bedchamber, you are only, Lady, subject to my secret thoughts,
And only in your eyes the light of prudence shines,
You are the ruler in the sultanate, you are his life, his soul,
Your eyes are a test for me, your long hair is a punishment, because thoughts are only about you,
And if I am an actor, I will forever, forever and forever only sing you alone in stories, odes and poems,
Let my heart groan with longing, I'm drunk, I'm sick with love,
I am Muhibbi, I am drunk with happiness!

Photo source: wallpaperscraft.com, alhorya.com

Which of the great monarchs seemed to you the greatest romantic?

What could be more pleasant than the voice of a loved one? What could be more long-awaited than his words? Now, in order to hear the subject of our adoration, we just need to dial the cherished numbers ... But what about before? How did these lovers, who were scattered over distances by fate, communicate? Earlier there were letters, messages and notes, in which the most tender words and the most sincere confessions were hidden ...

Napoleon Bonaparte - Josephine

“There wasn’t a day that I didn’t love you; there was no night without me squeezing you in my arms. I do not drink even a cup of tea, so as not to curse my pride and ambition, which force me to stay away from you, my soul. In the midst of the service, standing at the head of the army or checking the camps, I feel that my heart is occupied only by my beloved Josephine. It robs me of my mind, fills my thoughts.

If I move away from you at the speed of Rhone's current, it only means that I may soon see you. If I get up in the middle of the night to sit down to work, it’s because this can bring the moment of returning to you closer, my love. In your letter from 23 and 26 Vantose, you address me with "You". "You"? Oh, damn it! How could you write that? How cold it is! ..

Josephine! Josephine! Do you remember what I told you once: nature has awarded me a strong, unshakable soul. And she fashioned you out of lace and air. Have you stopped loving me? Forgive me, love of my life, my soul is torn.

My heart, which belongs to you, is full of fear and longing ...

It hurts me that you don't call me by name. I'll be waiting for you to write it. Goodbye! Oh, if you stopped loving me, then you never loved me! And I will have something to regret! "

Denis Diderot - Sophie Volan

“I cannot leave without telling you a few words. So, my darling, you expect a lot of good from me. Your happiness, even your life, depends, as you say, on my love for you!

Dear Sophie, you are very beautiful, aren't you? Observe yourself - see how it goes for you to be in love; and know that I love you very much. It is a constant expression of my feelings.

Good night, my dear Sophie. I am happy as only a man can be happy who knows that he is loved by the most beautiful woman. "

John Keats - Fanny Brown

“My dear girl!

Nothing in the world could give me more pleasure than your letter, except that you yourself. I was almost tired of being amazed that my senses blissfully obey the will of the being who is now so far from me.

Without even thinking about you, I feel your presence, and a wave of tenderness engulfs me. All my thoughts, all my joyless days and sleepless nights have not cured me of my love for Beauty. On the contrary, this love has become so strong that I am in despair because you are not around, and I have to overcome in dull patience an existence that cannot be called Life. Never before did I know that there is such a love that you gave me. I didn't believe in her; I was afraid to burn in its flame. But if you love me, the fire of love will not be able to scorch us - it will be no more than we, sprinkled with the dew of Pleasure, can endure.

You mention “terrible people” and ask if they will prevent us from seeing each other again. My love, understand only one thing: you fill my heart so much that I am ready to turn into a Mentor, barely noticing the danger that threatens you. In your eyes I want to see only joy, on your lips - only love, in your walk - only happiness ...

Always yours, my love! John Keats "

Alexander Pushkin - Natalia Goncharova

Moscow, in March 1830 (Chernovoye, in French.)

“Today is the anniversary of the day I first saw you; this day in my life. The more I think, the more I am convinced that my existence cannot be separated from yours: I was created to love you and follow you; all my other worries are one delusion and madness.

Away from you, I am haunted by regrets for the happiness I have not had time to enjoy. Sooner or later, however, I will have to drop everything and fall at your feet. The thought of the day when I will manage to have a piece of land in ... alone only smiles at me and revives in the midst of heavy anguish. There I can wander around your house, meet you, follow you ... "

Honore de Balzac - Evelina Hanska

“How I would like to spend the day at your feet; resting your head on your lap, dreaming about the beautiful, sharing your thoughts with you in bliss and ecstasy, and sometimes not talking at all, but pressing the edge of your dress to your lips! ..

Oh my love, Eve, the joy of my days, my light in the night, my hope, admiration, my beloved, precious, when will I see you? Or is it an illusion? Have I seen you? Oh Gods! How I love your subtle accent, your kind lips, so sensual - let me tell you this, my angel of love.

I work day and night to come and be with you for two weeks in December. On the way, I will see the Jura Mountains covered with snow, and I will think about the snowy whiteness of my beloved's shoulders. Oh! Inhaling the aroma of hair, holding your hand, squeezing you in my arms - that's where I get my inspiration from! My friends are amazed at the invincibility of my willpower. Oh! They do not know my beloved, the one whose pure image nullifies all the grief from their bilious attacks. One kiss, my angel, one slow kiss, and good night! "

Alfred de Musset - Georges Sand

“My dear Georges, I need to tell you something stupid and funny. I am foolishly writing to you, I don’t know why, instead of telling you all this after returning from a walk. In the evening I will fall into despair because of this. You will laugh in my face, you will consider me a phrase-monger. You will show me the door and you will think that I am lying.

I am in love with you. I fell in love with you from the first day when I was with you. I thought that I would be healed from this very simply, seeing you as a friend. There are many traits in your character that can heal me; I tried my best to convince myself of this. But the minutes that I spend with you are costing me too much. It's better to say this - I will suffer less if you show me the door now ...

But I do not want to make riddles or create the appearance of an unreasonable quarrel. Now, Georges, you, as usual, will say: “Another boring admirer!” If I am not quite the first person you meet, then tell me how you would have told me this yesterday in a conversation about someone else - what should I do ...

But I beg you - if you are going to tell me that you doubt the truth of what I am writing to you, then it is better not to answer at all. I know what you think of me; while saying this, I do not hope for anything. I can only lose my friend and those one pleasant hours that I have spent during the last month. But I know that you are kind, that you loved, and I entrust myself to you, not as a lover, but as a sincere and faithful comrade.

Georges, I am acting like a madman, depriving myself of the pleasure of seeing you during the short time that remains for you to spend in Paris before leaving for Italy. We could have had delightful nights there if I had more determination. But the truth is that I am suffering and I lack determination. "

Leo Tolstoy - Sophia Burns

“Sofya Andreevna, I'm getting intolerable. For three weeks I have been saying every day: today I’ll say everything, and I leave with the same longing, repentance, fear and happiness in my soul. And every night, like now, I go over the past, suffer and say: why did I not say, and how, and what I would say. I take this letter with me in order to give it to you, if again I cannot, or if I don’t have the spirit to tell you everything.

The false view of your family on me is the way it seems to me that I am in love with your sister Lisa. It’s not fair. Your story stuck in my head, because, after reading it, I was convinced that I, Dublitsky, should not dream of happiness, that your excellent poetic demands for love ... that I do not envy and will not envy that, whom you will love. It seemed to me that I could rejoice in you as children ...

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Constance

“Dear little wife, I have several assignments for you. I beg you:

1) don't get melancholy
2) take care of your health and beware of the spring winds,
3) don't go for a walk alone - or even better, don't go for a walk at all,
4) be completely sure of my love. I write all letters to you, placing your portrait in front of me.

5) I implore you to behave in such a way that neither your nor my good name is hurt, and also watch your appearance. Do not be angry with me for such a request. You must love me even more because I care about our honor with you.
6) and at the end I ask you to write me more detailed letters.

I really want to know if brother-in-law Hofer came to visit us the day after my departure? Does he come often as he promised me? Do the Langeses come in sometimes? How is the work on the portrait going? How do you live? All this, naturally, interests me greatly. "

link

Agree, other people's letters are at least exciting. And if they are not gossip on a social network, but whole small tragedies, then it is impossible to remain indifferent. It is difficult to judge whether the publication of the correspondence is something unethical, but let's get down to reading, having reserved ourselves with care and patience: then, perhaps, a thought that is not addressed to us will still be useful or even purify the soul.

I chose five correspondence, after which I want, firstly, to walk around the room for a long time and admire, and, secondly, to write to my friends something smarter than “Hello, I'm lying, and you?”.

Hannah Arendt and Martin Heidegger

Correspondence of lovers is a sweet thing, and even more so for philosophers in love. Here the author of difficult-to-pronounce terminology acts as a poet, devoting to Arendt the same type, but sometimes very tender poems, brags about his successes in skiing, complains of a cold and, most importantly, tries to understand “the most difficult thing that falls to a person's lot” - the feeling of love as such.

This communication lasts fifty years, and at the end, instead of the letters of the venerable professor to the admired student, we see evidence of the friendship of two outstanding people who were able to survive everything - the war, all kinds of accusations and love for each other.

And the fact that love is, this is a gratifying testament to “being here”: it can be. And now a new peace spreads over your face, and this is a reflection not of some free floating bliss, but of strength and kindness, in which you are so completely.

22.06.1925

Ingeborg Bachmann and Paul Celan

It is not often possible to find a poet whose fate would be comfortable and devoid of thorns. The meeting between Ingeborg Bachmann and Paul Celan is like proof of this impossibility. They write poetry to each other and about each other, then to be silent for ten years. Bachmann dies in a fire, Celan commits suicide. Two hundred brilliant, tragic letters, the last of which remain unanswered - all that remains for us, chained to the twenty-first century.

I watch with fear as you are carried away into the vast sea, but I will build a ship and return you, lost, home. Only you yourself help me in this and do not complicate my task. Time and much more are against us, but we will not allow it to destroy what we want to save from its stream. Write to me as soon as possible, please, and write if you need my words, will you accept my tenderness and love, can I help you with something, are you still reaching out to me and are you covering me with a dark veil of heavy sleep in which I want shine with light. Try, write, ask me a question, free yourself from everything that oppresses you! I'm all with you.

24.09.1949

Alexey Losev and Valentina Sokolova

A rare, but beautiful and terrible book - the correspondence of the Russian philosopher Alexei Losev with his wife, astronomer Valentina Sokolova. Sent into exile in different camps, they do not talk about injustice and the horrors of repression, but seek solace in the eternal, from ancient philosophy to mathematical equations. The Soviet concentration camp turned out to be a desert of trials for the spouses who secretly tonsured into monks.

The destruction of their library, the approaching blindness of Alexei Fedorovich, will be a terrible blow for the Losevs - but was there this joy, "joy forever" carried through the years of exile? ..

Dear, eternal, unforgettable sister and mother, wife and bride! I bless the day and the hour when I saw for the first time your clear and bright face, and among all the trials and sufferings, you are the only support and support, constant hope and hope. Even if you have to die in separation, you can still say that it was not for nothing that we lived with you in the world, that we learned the mystery of love and peace, which is unknown to people and has no name in human language. With the memories of you and the hope of a date, I live and sound, wander from one place to another and while I endure all the hardships of a difficult path.

12.12.1931

Erich Maria Remarque and Marlene Dietrich

When it comes to love, where are we without Remarque? Even if there is no money for dresses from Balenciaga, and Calvados is being replaced by ordinary vodka, there is something fragilely beautiful in the world of racers, fashion models and lost youths who came from a long war. This book is another classic remarks novel, and Remarque Dietrich's letters may well be Ravik's telegrams to the wayward Joan of the Arc de Triomphe.

How will it end? Bad. Do the heroes know this? Yes. We know this too, but now a happy Remarque throws a bottle of expensive wine into the sea, making a sacrifice to the sea gods, and we rejoice with him.

And just look: the butterflies, which were taken for dead, dead, heavy and motionless, they dried out in the sun, warmed up and settled on a warm stone, like strips of a medal's shoe, and again turned into a clear, flying "yes!" life, again turned into a multicolored soaring, returning from the night, and the day ahead is still long ... An oblique ray, lightning from heavenly mirrors, hello to you! Fuck chicken coops! Sunflowers hummed: "Parting, parting!" - and the falcons shouted: “Future! Future!" - blessed be the years that are now leaving into oblivion, blessed be the mercies, blessed are all the troubles, blessed be the wild cries and blessed will be the hours of stopped time when life held its breath - it was youth, youth, and it was life, life !

31.10.1942

Andrey Platonov - to his wife and friends

Hundreds of studies have been written about the life and work of Andrei Platonov, but since there is a chance to read the author himself, this should not be missed. As “the person who collected his letters” says in the preface: “In my opinion, it is enough to collect people's letters and publish them, and you will get a new literature of world significance”.

Again the question arises of how much our correspondence in social networks will excite the world, but what Platonov wrote to his wife and friends is definitely moving.

Neither you nor I have yet realized how beautiful and powerful we are. We are happier and more immortal than the gods. Light and joy to you, for you were the first to bring love into the world and make life unnecessary. You have justified my prophecy: a woman, Mary, and not a woman, but a girl will save the universe through her son. Her first son will be her beloved, whom she will kiss on the soul in response to the kiss. Goodbye light and new saved universe, fire and resurrection. We conceived another better world, higher than heaven and more mysterious than the stars. Goodbye, inexplicable, my love is tearing my heart and my soul has become an abyss, where the flame of longing for you swirls like a whirlwind. I know that I have become immortal and will rebuild the universe for and in the name of you. I want light for you, bright, how everything in me became light and faith.

Ursula Doyle

Love letters from great people. Book two. Women

LLC "Publishing house" Dobraya kniga ", 2010

All rights reserved. No part of the electronic version of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including placement on the Internet and corporate networks, for private and public use without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Dedicated to the memory of four great women:

A.D. and M.I.S., A.D. and N.D.

Foreword

Prior to the publication of this book, another edition was published called “ Love letters from great people". His appearance gave rise to a discussion about whether people write love letters in our time. The participants in the discussion came to the conclusion that modern means of communication have succeeded in supplanting words written on paper, and that the ability to men force yourself to write a letter (and send it as well). But readers (mostly women) complained not so much about the fact that the place of love letters was usurped by text messages from mobile phones and messages by e-mail, but about the irrevocable departure of those times when men talked about their feelings, and not just grumbled, lying on the couch ... The interest in reading the romantic (and even not so romantic) outpourings of men who lived in other historical periods is probably explained not by the personal qualities of these men, but by the fact that such outpourings in our time are very rare, no matter what form they take.

As noted in the introduction to the publication, the letters of men differ markedly in style, mood and, alas, the degree of sincerity: sometimes there is a feeling that some great men wrote them counting on descendants or in the belief that a love letter is just another way show off your talents. When compiling this volume, reading the letters produced completely different impressions. For great men, prominent historical figures, the choice of loved ones and wives was only one of many aspects of life; they owed their greatness to achievements in other spheres - in science, travel, conquests, political games, creative aspirations. All these areas of activity have opened to most women relatively recently, therefore, regrettably, the women mentioned in this book owe their fame either to those whom they married or to those whom they brought into the world: only because of their connection with famous husbands or the offspring preserved the letters of these women. The marriage completely determined the further fate of many of them. I cannot and certainly will not argue that women are more sincere than men, that women are less capable of pretending and posturing. The bottom line is that deeds of the heart could irreversibly change the fate of a woman, although they did not at all affect the fate of a man. It is hard to imagine that any of the great men in 1712 wrote, like Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, in a letter to her beloved shortly before escaping with him against the wishes of her father: “What we do makes me in awe. Will you really love me forever? I am afraid and hopeful. " For a woman, the consequences of a wrong decision, one wrong step could be truly catastrophic.

Of course, women are also mentioned here who despised conventions, did not obey their relatives and fought for the opportunity to independently control their own lives. As a rule, these women were unusually smart, rich, and therefore independent. This does not diminish the importance of their achievements, just keep in mind that the bar on the path of women to success has been set at an almost unattainable height. And, of course, there are women on our list who have been actively encouraged by their wonderful spouses. For example, husbands Abigail Adams and Isabella Beaton supported them and wished them success in any endeavors.

There are also sad stories here. They tell not only about love that ended in tragedy, but also about the dangers and troubles that lay in wait for women on their path in life: from powerlessness, lack of education and economic independence to the threat of life during difficult childbirth and the likelihood of death of children in infancy. Antibiotics and suffrage have changed everything, at least in the more economically developed countries (it is worth noting that, according to horrific UN statistics, of the 536,000 maternal deaths occurring annually, 99% are in economically less developed countries). The feminist slogan "You've come a long way, baby" is unlikely to apply here, but it is sometimes helpful to remember the progress women have made since Mary Wollstonecraft wrote her famous article " Protecting women's rights».

In this list of love letters, I am amazed by the tenacity of women, despite the seemingly insurmountable difficulties, their perseverance, courage, stoicism, wit, charm and generosity. The love spoken of in their letters takes many forms: it is condescending, deceiving, ambiguous, ambitious, selfish, erotic, chaste, and insane. Nevertheless, it is love and at the same time a legacy that is worth cherishing.

Ursula Doyle, London, 2009

I looked at all these stupid girls popping out for the first person they met, with whom they thought they could live. And, apparently, she was waiting for a person without whom I could not live.

Nora Doyle, 1917–2007

Lady Joan Pelem

… I swear, I have never been so happy as when I learned from your letter that the Lord does not leave you with his mercy and protects you from enemy intrigues.

This letter was written by Lady Pelem to her husband, Sir John, in 1399 from their Pevensie Castle in East Sussex. Sir John Pelem was away at the time, helping Henry Bolingbroke to gather troops for an attempt to overthrow Richard II from the throne, which later turned out to be successful. Pevensie was besieged by the enemies of Sir John, and Lady Pelem, not giving in to panic, asked her husband if he could soon return home.

Lady Joan Pelem to Sir John Pelem