Читать книгу "Not I, but the Wind..." - Frieda von Richthofen Lawrence - Страница 18

Waldbröl—Mittwoch

I have had all your three letters quite safely. We are coming on quickly now. Do tell me if you can what is E ...’s final decision. He will get the divorce, I think, because of his thinking you ought to marry me. That is the result of my letter to him. I will crow my little crow, in opposition to you. And then after six months, we will be married—will you? Soon we will go to Munich. But give us a little time. Let us get solid before we set up together. Waldbröl restores me to my decent sanity. Is Metz still bad for you—no? It will be better for me to stay here—shall I say till the end of next week. We must decide what we are going to do, very definitely. If I am to come to Munich next week, what are we going to live on? Can we scramble enough together to last us till my payments come in? I am not going to tell my people anything till you have the divorce. If we can go decently over the first three or four months—financially—I think I shall be able to keep us going for the rest. Never mind about the infant. If it should come, we will be glad, and stir ourselves to provide for it—and if it should not come, ever—I shall be sorry. I do not believe, when people love each other, in interfering there. It is wicked, according to my feeling. I want you to have children to me—I don’t care how soon. I never thought I should have that definite desire. But you see, we must have a more or less stable foundation if we are going to run the risk of the responsibility of children—not the risk of children, but the risk of the responsibility.

I think after a little while, I shall write to E ... again. Perhaps he would correspond better with me.

Can’t you feel how certainly I love you and how certainly we shall be married? Only let us wait just a short time, to get strong again. Two shaken, rather sick people together would be a bad start. A little waiting, let us have, because I love you. Or does the waiting make you worse?—no, not when it is only a time of preparation. Do you know, like the old knights, I seem to want a certain time to prepare myself—a sort of vigil with myself. Because it is a great thing for me to marry you, not a quick, passionate coming together. I know in my heart “here’s my marriage” It feels rather terrible—because it is a great thing in my life—it is my life—I am a bit awe-inspired—I want to get used to it. If you think it is fear and indecision, you wrong me. It is you who would hurry, who are undecided. It’s the very strength and inevitability of the oncoming thing that makes me wait, to get in harmony with it. Dear God, I am marrying you, now, don’t you see. It’s a far greater thing than ever I knew. Give me till next weekend, at least. If you love me, you will understand.

If I seem merely frightened and reluctant to you—you must forgive me.

I try, I will always try, when I write to you, to write the truth as near the mark as I can get it. It frets me, for fear you are disappointed in me, and for fear you are too much hurt. But you are strong when necessary.

You have got all myself—I don’t even flirt—it would bore me very much—unless I got tipsy. It’s a funny thing, to feel one’s passion—sex desire—no longer a sort of wandering thing, but steady, and calm. I think, when one loves, one’s very sex passion becomes calm, a steady sort of force, instead of a storm. Passion, that nearly drives one mad, is far away from real love. I am realizing things that I never thought to realize. Look at that poem I sent you—I would never write that to you. I shall love you all my life. That also is a new idea to me. But I believe it.

Auf Wiedersehen

D. H. Lawrence