|
|
September 1, 1834
But let me have this letter, containing nothing but your love; and tell
me that you give me your lips, your hair, all that face that I have
possessed, and tell me that we embrace - you and I!
O God, O God, when I think of it, my throat closes, my sight is
troubled; my knees fail, ah, it is horrible to die, it is also horrible
to love like this! What longing, what longing I have for you!
I beg you to let me have the letter I ask. I am dying. Farewell.
Alfred de Musset, French Poet, to Amantine Aurore Dudevant, French
writer.
Back to LoveLetters Index
|
|