I kiss you a thousand times for your dearest letter and present, though I have not yet received it […] You simply cannot imagine how pleased I am with your choice. Why, Rodbertus is simple my favorite economist and I can read him a hundred times for sheer intellectual pleasure. […] My dear, how you delighted me with your letter. I have read it six times from beginning to end. So, you are really pleased with me. You write that perhaps I only know inside me that somewhere there is a man who belongs to me! Don’t you know that everything I do is always done with you in mind: when I write an article my first thought is – this will cause you pleasure – and when I have days when I doubt my own strength and cannot work, my only fear is what effect this will have on you, that it might disappoint you. When I have proof of success, like a letter from Kautsky, this is simply my homage to you. I give you my word, as I loved my mother, that I am personally quite indifferent to what Kautsky writes. I was only pleased with it because I wrote it with your eyes and felt how much pleasure it would give you.
[…] Only one thing nags my contentment: the outward arrangements of your life and of our relationship. I feel that I will soon have such an established position (morally) that we will be able to live together quite calmly, openly, as husband and wife. I am sure you understand this yourself. I am happy that the problem of your citizenship is at last coming to an end and that you are working energetically at your doctorate. I can fell from your recent letters that you are in a very good mood to work […]
Do you think that I do not fell your value, that whenever the call to arms is sounded you always stand by me with help and encourage me to work – forgetting all the rows and all my neglect!
[…] You have no idea with what joy and desire I wait for every letter from you because each one brings me so much strength and happiness and encourages me to live.
I was happiest of all with that part of your letter where you write that we are both young and can still arrange our personal life. Oh darling, how I long that you may fulfil your promise […] Our own little room, our own furniture, a library of our own, quite and regular work, walks together, an opera from time to time, a small – very small – circle of intimate friends who can sometimes be asked to dinner, every year a summer departure to the country for a month but definitely free from works! […] And perhaps even a little, a very little, baby? Will this never be permitted? Never? Darling, do you know what accosted me yesterday during a walk in the park – and without any exaggeration? A little child, three or four years old, in beautiful dress with blond hair; it stared at me and suddenly I felt an overpowering urge to kidnap the child and dash off home with him. Oh darling, will I never have my own baby?
And at home we will never argue again, will we? It must be quite and peaceful as it is with everyone else. Only you know what worries me, I feel already so old and am not in the least attractive. You will not have an attractive wife when you walk hand in hand with her through the park – we will keep well away from the Germans. […] Darling, if you will first settle the question of your citizenship, secondly your doctorate and thirdly live with me openly in our own room and work together with me, then we can want for nothing more! No couple on earth has so many facilities as you and I and if there is only some goodwill on our part we will be, must be, happy.
Róża
(sobre Rosa Luxemburgo, por exemplo aqui ou aqui)
