10 July

If I could come to Vienna tomorrow and see you there, Yvette mine, the beautiful, sweet one who I love so very very much – my God Yvette darling, I would not know how to speak to you! If I could only tomorrow stretch out my hand and touch your skin, your cheeks, lightly touch your lips, count your freckles, can you imagine that for a minute darling, can you? Would I be able to speak? Would I be dumb? No. I know, I predict it and feel it already very clearly. Only one word would escape my lips. It would be “darling”, “ sweet little darling”.  That is all I would be able to say. Everything else would strangle me with the power of my love for you.  I will only look at you. And you too would look. And you will see our happiness, the happiness of being free to love. I love you little one. My love for you has not increased. It is the same as it was at the moment of its birth. It knew no limits. I always told you that. And I will go on telling you. I know that you are my wife; I always knew it.  I remember the day I said: ‘It is Yvette I want, fro ever. It is with Yvette that I want to live.”

I know, and you know too that for years I have whispered your name ceaselessly with fervour with tenderness that is the sum of all my being. I have no reserve; I am all for you. Everyone to his own creation. My most beautiful is when I fill the whole of a letter with one name only, your Yvette. Nothing but that. Yvette, Yvette, yvette- you see darling after each comma a new life began a new strength: the same powerful love.

Understand me darling, understand me well: as it was the first time I saw you, now again I can’t speak to you. Speaking can only be a small part of the whole, which I feel. And what I feel is so beautiful, so rich in music and colour like the sky, the grass, the tree, and the world.

I remember one day in Cairo, I had given myself over to the music of Beethoven. There in the hotel room I added words, simple, childish and naïve words the poets would say, “Yvette, my dear little Yvette’. I gave these words to the powerful violin concerto. Alone and in the spirit of Beethoven too -–I knew that I had embellished that music. For I pit it on the pedestal of our love. I raised it up to the sky; our blue.

The pathetic words that I come out with here can be a comic puzzle for the rest of the world. But not for you. You alone can understand it, for my love is in you, because I am in you.

Yvette we must live together, you understand me; we must because we also value the beauty of life.

Listen darling, this last week since I read your letters from Palestine, there is nothing but waiting in me. Longing – violent, sweet; always tender. I want to caress you. Drink from your soul and from your mouth. Chew your teeth. I desire you. Rest my head on your breast. Sleep with you, with our limbs intertwined. Darling- accept the silence. You know it is beautiful.

This is my fifth letter to Vienna along with 3 telegrams. But two letters – among them one in which I guessed that at last you are “victorious”, were addressed to No 1 Drothegrasse. Did you receive them there? I already asked you if you love me. Because, you see I felt that you had found yourself again that you have become yourself and that we would have a child. Darling, I sent you a long letter several days ago. I tried to speak to you there with some sense. About us.  I proposed that you come. I will easily get you a Polish visa. We must be close together to begin to construct our future, which – I swear –will be beautiful, peaceful and full of the tenderest love. Here we will decide everything.

I would never have supposed that the day you claimed, I would have such a job, so intimately tied to our ideal and to our past, that would prevent me getting on the first plane to meet you.  Darling, in any other situation I would be already in your arms. I start to hate my work and wish that I had stayed another month in Palestine. We would already have been together, side by side, inside each other; we would already be expecting a child.

I embrace you all over.

Your Henri

ZWIAZEK DABROWSZCZAKOW
c/o Henryk Adler
43 Aleje Stalina
Warszawa