Читать книгу "Not I, but the Wind..." - Frieda von Richthofen Lawrence - Страница 15

Postcard with picture of Trier, Porta Nigra

Here is your Porta Nigra, that you have missed three times. I think I am quite clever. It is a weird and circuitous journey to Waldbröl—seven hours. Now I am at Niederlahnstein—Rechtrheinisch—having just come over from Coblentz! I go on to Troisdorf—ever heard of such places!—then to Hennef—and at last Waldbröl—four changes—umsteigen—seven hours’ journey. But isn’t the Mosel valley pretty? The Rhein is most awfully German. It makes me laugh. It looks fearfully fit for the theatre. Address me care of Frau Karl Krenkow, Waldbröl Rheinprovinz. Anything new and nasty happened? This is my sentimental journey.

Love

D. H. Lawrence

Postcard with picture of Trier, Basilica

Now, I am in Hennef—my last changing place. It is 8:30—and still an hour to wait. So I am sitting like a sad swain beside a nice, twittering little river, waiting for the twilight to drop, and my last train to come. I shan’t get to Waldbröl till after 11:00—nine hours on the way—and that is the quickest it can be done. But it’s a nice place, Hennef, nearly like England. It’s getting dark. Now for the first time during today, my detachment leaves me, and I know I only love you. The rest is nothing at all. And the promise of life with you is all richness. Now I know.

D. H. Lawrence