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Autograph of a letter written by Fryderyk Chopin to his family, 6 July 1827, p. 2

 

Autograph of a letter written by Fryderyk Chopin to his family: ‘Najukochańsi Rodzice i wy, lube siostrylle…’, Kowalewo, Friday [6 July 1827], two sheets, written on three pages, one with the address, 241x191 mm. Muzeum Fryderyka Chopina, Warsaw [M/3].

 

‘My dearest Parents and you, dear sisterelles. When my health is as rude as that of a trained dog, and Mr Zboiński’s yellow eyes are fading, when we’re leaving for Płock, it would be madness on my part not to mention it. – So today in Płock, tomorrow in Rościszewo, the day after tomorrow in Kikół, a couple of days in Turzno, a couple of days in Kozłowo and the next moment in Gdańsk, and back again! Perhaps someone will say to me: “you can see that he’s anxious to return home when he mentions it”. No, no, not at all, you are most mistaken good sir or madam, for I wrote it only to arouse those mutual feelings that we usually experience when greeting each other. – And who would yearn?… Certainly not I. Perhaps some other would yearn, but not I!… – What is more, there is no letter from Warsaw; today in Płock I shall turn the whole post office upside down just to find something addressed to me. And how are things in the new lodgings? Are they already swotting up for the exam? Is Tytus pining in the country?… Pruszak just the same?… And how is Mr Skarbek, who was eating dinner on the 3rd, when I was planning to travel with him into the country?… I’m curious about everything, like a woman. But what to do, they’ll not give the dog meat, the dog fasts and what else can it do but go hither and thither in search of food? I’m also going to Płock for meat, as I presume you didn’t know that the last post is languishing in the summer. Now it once again looks like a long period of not writing will ensue! so I won’t worry myself, as it’s difficult to know where I should be sought, but as for me, I shall be writing regularly, almost every step of the way, and I shall let you know whither to address, in order to find me. – But as Mr Zboiński states, you can write via Toruń, Schwetz to Kozłowo, for us to find a letter on our arrival. It’s not a bad idea: I expect it will be adopted (for Izabelka). – I wanted, sisterelles, to send my little waltz, but I have no time to write, as we are embarking; it’s now morning, 8 o’clock (for we never rise before 7), the air is fresh, the sunshine lovely, the little birds are chirping, the stream is dry, or it would be murmuring, but there is a pond and the frogs sing prettily! – But the funniest thing is the blackbird, which sings up a rumpus outside the windows, and after the blackbird Mr Zboiński'syoungest, Kamilka, not yet two years old, who has taken a liking to me and babbles that ‘Kagila lo'es you’. Like she me, so I a billion times Papa and Mama, Mama and Papa lo’e and respect, and kiss you on your feet and hands. The most devoted F. Chopin. Sisterelles, kiss, kiss, kiss. To all, Tytus, Prus[zak], Bartoch, Jęd[rzejewicz] – everything.’