Beethoven's Letters

Beethoven's letter to his Immortal Beloved, 6th July 18__?

Though still in bed,

my thoughts go out to you,

my Immortal Beloved,

now and then joyfully, then sadly,

waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us -

I can live only wholly with you or not at all -

Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you

until I can fly to your arms and say

that I am really at home with you,

and can send my soul enwrapped in you

into the land of spirits -

Yes, unhappily it must be so -

You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you

No one else can ever possess my heart -

never - never -

Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves.

And yet my life in V is now a wretched life -

Your love makes me at once the happiest

and the unhappiest of men -

At my age I need a steady, quiet life -

can that be so in our connection?

My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day

- therefore I must close at once

so that you may receive the letter at once

- Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence

can we achieve our purpose to live together

- Be calm - love me - today - yesterday -

what tearful longings for you -

you - you - my life - my all - farewell.

Oh continue to love me -

never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine

ever mine

ever ours

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The above is one of three translations I came across of a letter found on Beethoven's desk after his death in 1827. It was dated, simply, 6th July and there is still confusion about the year it was written (perhaps 1811 or 1812) and was it ever posted, or was it returned, unopened?

Beethoven's 'Immortal Beloved' remains a romantic enigma; seven women are suggested on this site. Beethoven dedicated his 'Moonlight Sonata' ("Quasi una fantasia", Op.27 #2), to one of the ladies, Countess Guilietta Guicciardi.

I think he would roll over ('Roll over, Beethoven', Chuck Berry 1956) if he knew that his intimate letters were freely available in greeting cards - and blogs! Guilty! But I do revere him and love playing some of his pieces, particularly his Sonatas.

Also, listen to Poet Laureate, Rita Dove, reading her "Ludwig van Beethoven's Return to Vienna", from her book, 'Sonata Mulattica'.

MY SLEEPING LOVED ONES

Vittore Carpaccio - c.1460-c.1526

This is no angel fallen in the noon,

But my sister asleep on the couch.

And don't mistake my stillness for awe.

It's just that I don't want to waken her,

Though I'd love to cup her chin in my palms,

Bend down to her, like a mirror, and kiss her face.

But I'll do nothing, just look a while, then leave

quietly. For this is noon,

Time of rest, hour of tenderness

And the sleeping loved ones.

From the book, 'Rose' by Li-Young Lee

'The Sleeping Loved Ones' - 1st stanza

POEM

Eildon Pondage January 2006

Here, where my breathing is the sound of Life's whisper ...

I hear the Voice of my Heart's prayer ...
I know the Reality of my truest Yearnings ...
The Longings that no one else could understand ...
Are clear to me here.

And I want to linger ... hold on to this fragile Treasure ...
Lest my senses have stolen from them an instant of Aliveness ...
And my breath be lost in the clamour of the world's noise.

Please, Life ... grant me this Place ...
for my Soul's eternal dwelling.

John-Michael
31st January 2009

GIVING

You give but little when you give of your possessions.

It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

DANTE & ELIZABETH

Beata Beatrix by Rossetti - Tate Gallery London

Silent Noon

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,

The finger-points look through like rosy blooms;

Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms

'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.

All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,

Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge

Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.

'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly

Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky;

So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.

Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,

This close-companion'd inarticulate hour

When twofold silence was the song of love.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I came across the above painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, went to find out more about him and stumbled upon a tragic love story. Most of his early paintings of women are portraits of his wife, Elizabeth, an artists' model. He ultimately forbade her to model for other Pre-Raphaelite artists. Beata Beatrix, which portrays a praying Beatrice (Beatrice Portinari, Dante Alighieri's lifelong love), was painted one year after Elizabeth's death. Dante Alighieri's poetry was translated by Rossetti and included in his book, 'The Early Italian Poets', published in 1861.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1828-1882

Rossetti's early poetry and the only copy, was interred with Elizabeth's body, later exhumed and published in 'Poems by D.G. Rosetti'.

There is so much more to read about Dante Rosetti and Elizabeth Siddal, with thanks to Wikipedia and their references and at this link.