Letter 478 - Revision history

Brett: Text replacement - " sympathetic " to " agreeable "

2024-07-18T19:21:27Z

Text replacement - " sympathetic " to " agreeable "

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:21, 18 July 2024
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	\|Translated text={{right\|''[[Vichy]]''<br/>Friday}}		\|Translated text={{right\|''[[Vichy]]''<br/>Friday}}
	{{centre\|[[Modya]]!}}		{{centre\|[[Modya]]!}}
	I don't know what the future holds, but today I am oppressed by such an ''awful, deadly'' melancholy, that it's highly doubtful that I'll be staying here long. You cannot imagine how loathsome [[Vichy]] is, and the extent to which there is nothing here to captivate and console me. But most importantly, the thought that you are so nearby, while I am here dying from melancholy and loneliness, is deadly. I arrived here late last night; at the last station I was accosted by a gentleman who suggested I stay at the ''Bellevue'' hotel, where he works as a translator. I agreed. The hotels are small, but clean. I took a large room with two beds, because it is isolated and I can play in it without ceremony. I slept not too badly. In the morning I saw the doctor; a handsome and ~~sympathetic~~ fellow; he very thoroughly examined and questioned me about my illness, and indicated the way to drink the water and take baths. I immediately went off to drink my first glass. At 10 o'clock there was a most delicious breakfast. At the post office I received 10 letters. Then I gadded about, signed up as a member of the ''Casino'', etc., ''all'' the while suffering from indescribable ''melancholy''. I don't know tomorrow holds (I'll be writing to you frequently), but now I'm only living for the thought that you'll be arriving in a week, and also with the determination, in the event that my state of mind worsens, to leave for ''[[Lyons]]''. Give ''[[Nikolay Konradi\|Kolya]]'' a ''very'' tender kiss from me; I adore him. Bow to Sofya Aleksandrova and give yourself a hug.		I don't know what the future holds, but today I am oppressed by such an ''awful, deadly'' melancholy, that it's highly doubtful that I'll be staying here long. You cannot imagine how loathsome [[Vichy]] is, and the extent to which there is nothing here to captivate and console me. But most importantly, the thought that you are so nearby, while I am here dying from melancholy and loneliness, is deadly. I arrived here late last night; at the last station I was accosted by a gentleman who suggested I stay at the ''Bellevue'' hotel, where he works as a translator. I agreed. The hotels are small, but clean. I took a large room with two beds, because it is isolated and I can play in it without ceremony. I slept not too badly. In the morning I saw the doctor; a handsome and agreeable fellow; he very thoroughly examined and questioned me about my illness, and indicated the way to drink the water and take baths. I immediately went off to drink my first glass. At 10 o'clock there was a most delicious breakfast. At the post office I received 10 letters. Then I gadded about, signed up as a member of the ''Casino'', etc., ''all'' the while suffering from indescribable ''melancholy''. I don't know tomorrow holds (I'll be writing to you frequently), but now I'm only living for the thought that you'll be arriving in a week, and also with the determination, in the event that my state of mind worsens, to leave for ''[[Lyons]]''. Give ''[[Nikolay Konradi\|Kolya]]'' a ''very'' tender kiss from me; I adore him. Bow to Sofya Aleksandrova and give yourself a hug.
	{{right\|P. Tchaikovsky}}		{{right\|P. Tchaikovsky}}
	}}		}}
	{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0478}}		{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0478}}

Brett at 12:20, 14 July 2024

2024-07-14T12:20:13Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:20, 14 July 2024
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	\|Publication={{bib\|1940/210\|П. И. Чайковский. Письма к родным ; том 1}} (1940), p. 241 <br/>{{bib\|1961/38\|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том VI}} (1961), p. 51–52		\|Publication={{bib\|1940/210\|П. И. Чайковский. Письма к родным ; том 1}} (1940), p. 241 <br/>{{bib\|1961/38\|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том VI}} (1961), p. 51–52
	}}		}}
	==Text==		==Text and Translation==
	{{Lettertext		{{Lettertext
	\|Language=Russian		\|Language=Russian
	\|Translator=		\|Translator=Brett Langston
	\|Original text={{right\|''Виши''<br/>Пятница}}		\|Original text={{right\|''Виши''<br/>Пятница}}
	{{centre\|Модя!}}		{{centre\|Модя!}}
Line 16:		Line 16:
	{{right\|П. Чайковский}}		{{right\|П. Чайковский}}

	\|Translated text=		\|Translated text={{right\|''[[Vichy]]''<br/>Friday}}
			{{centre\|[[Modya]]!}}
			I don't know what the future holds, but today I am oppressed by such an ''awful, deadly'' melancholy, that it's highly doubtful that I'll be staying here long. You cannot imagine how loathsome [[Vichy]] is, and the extent to which there is nothing here to captivate and console me. But most importantly, the thought that you are so nearby, while I am here dying from melancholy and loneliness, is deadly. I arrived here late last night; at the last station I was accosted by a gentleman who suggested I stay at the ''Bellevue'' hotel, where he works as a translator. I agreed. The hotels are small, but clean. I took a large room with two beds, because it is isolated and I can play in it without ceremony. I slept not too badly. In the morning I saw the doctor; a handsome and sympathetic fellow; he very thoroughly examined and questioned me about my illness, and indicated the way to drink the water and take baths. I immediately went off to drink my first glass. At 10 o'clock there was a most delicious breakfast. At the post office I received 10 letters. Then I gadded about, signed up as a member of the ''Casino'', etc., ''all'' the while suffering from indescribable ''melancholy''. I don't know tomorrow holds (I'll be writing to you frequently), but now I'm only living for the thought that you'll be arriving in a week, and also with the determination, in the event that my state of mind worsens, to leave for ''[[Lyons]]''. Give ''[[Nikolay Konradi\|Kolya]]'' a ''very'' tender kiss from me; I adore him. Bow to Sofya Aleksandrova and give yourself a hug.
			{{right\|P. Tchaikovsky}}
	}}		}}
	{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0478}}		{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0478}}

Brett: 1 revision imported

2022-07-12T12:28:22Z

1 revision imported

← Older revision	Revision as of 13:28, 12 July 2022
(No difference)

Brett at 10:27, 9 April 2020

2020-04-09T10:27:16Z

New page

{{letterhead
|Date=2/14 July 1876
|To=[[Modest Tchaikovsky]]
|Place=[[Vichy]]
|Language=Russian
|Autograph=[[Klin]] (Russia): {{RUS-KLč}} (a{{sup|3}}, No. 1456)
|Publication={{bib|1940/210|П. И. Чайковский. Письма к родным ; том 1}} (1940), p. 241 <br/>{{bib|1961/38|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том VI}} (1961), p. 51–52
}}
==Text==
{{Lettertext
|Language=Russian
|Translator=
|Original text={{right|''Виши''<br/>Пятница}}
{{centre|Модя!}}
Не знаю, что дальше будет, но сегодня меня давит такая ''ужасная, убийственная'' тоска, что весьма сомнительно, чтоб я здесь долго остался. Ты не можешь себе представить, какая Виши гадость и до какой степени здесь нет ничего, могущего меня пленить и утешить. Но главное, убийственна мысль, что ты так близко, а между тем я здесь погибаю от тоски и одиночества. Я приехал вчера вечером поздно; на последней станции ко мне пристал господин, предлагавший остановиться в отеле ''Bellevue'', где он состоит переводчиком. Я согласился. Отели к маленький, но чистенький. Я взял большую комнату с двумя кроватями, потому что она отдалена и в ней можно играть не церемонясь. Спал недурно. Утром у меня был доктор: красивый и симпатичный малый; он очень обстоятельно расспросил и рассмотрел мою болезнь и указал способ пить воды и брать ванны. Я сейчас же пошёл выпить первый стакан. В 10 часов был завтрак очень вкусный. Был на почте: получил 10 писем. Потом шлялся, записался членом ''казино'' и т. д. и ''все'' время неописано страдал от ''тоски''. Не знаю, что будет завтра (я тебе буду писать очень часто), но теперь я только живу мыслью, что ты через неделю приедешь а также решимостью в случае ухудшения в состоянии духа, — уехать в ''Лион''. Поцелуй от меня ''Колю очень'' нежно: я его обожаю. Кланяйся С[офье] А[лександровне] и обними самого себя.
{{right|П. Чайковский}}

|Translated text=
}}
{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0478}}