Recently I remembered the romantic of Ukrainian literature, Vasyl Symonenko, and his letters to his wife. For some reason, it seemed to me that the dynamics of their relationship are similar to those of Alice and Peter White, so I want to share these letters.
Note: the names will not be changed, just so you know, Lucia Symonenko is Alice, Vasyl Symonenko is Peter White. Further notes will be near the translation of the text.
((If you see a mistake in the text or a word that does not fit the context, please let me know.))
«Yesterday, I spent the whole day running around Kyiv. I was very sleepy, but I vowed to calm down only after 11 pm. There are a lot of nice girls here, but unfortunately, I haven't seen anyone like you.»
«Lyusia! I've already missed you a lot. For some reason, all the girls in dark blue coats look very much like you from a distance, but not up close. It's a pity. I love you - I love you wildly. No one has ever messed with my head like that. On paper, kissing is not very tasty, but I kiss my little Lyusia a million times. My lips won't hurt, don't worry.
Write a couple of lines <...>. I'm waiting.
I love you. Miss you. Kisses. Your Vasya.»
«Hello, Lyucia! I thought I had finally found the girl I had been looking for for so long. But your silence speaks volumes. Obviously, my letters were unnecessary and superfluous to you, just as I was unnecessary to you. Well, in that case, I'm sorry for bothering you with clumsy tenderness. I'm not going to throw a tantrum, because that's not my role, and, after all, I don't really know what the matter is.
It's just a shame that I can't forget you. I fell in like a boy. But this has nothing to do with the letter. Until I get some news from you, I won't write.
«...The main thing is that I love Malyusia* and miss her very much. And, besides, I hope she misses me too. Don't you?
Love. Kisses. Yours, Vasily.»
((*It's a play on words. Symonenko's wife's name is Lyusia. In a diminutive form, he calls her Malyusia, which in Ukrainian is comparable to "my Lyusia" or "Little Lyusia."))
«I think about you so much that it makes me angry. I love you and miss you and hug you and kiss you and... and.... and....
Give my best regards. Your husband Vassily.»
«I missed you, as always, more than you missed me, even though you're silly.
But I'm not going to talk about it, so that you don't turn up your nose. You already have it up*.»
((*Simonenko playfully alludes to Lucy's upturned nose. After all, in Ukrainian the phrase "to turn up one's nose to the sky (to be conceited)" and "to have a snub nose" are similar. And here it's a play on words.))
My little spindly girl, I love you, my one and only little, sweet girl.
((*It may be interesting to someone, but Symonenko used anglicism here. That is, he wrote the English word 'goodbye' in Ukrainian letters - "ґудбай"))
«Lucy! You see how I am trying to please my beloved, and I am writing such a long letter that if it were not for you, I would probably never have done it. I love my little sinner. I miss her so much. I will be there soon. Wait a little longer and I will come home early.
I kiss your little hands with which you cleaned the fish <...>.
«I kiss my naughty Malyusia.
I've been writing the fourth letter, and I haven't heard from you. Are you lazy or do you not want to write? Or maybe the gray-haired boy who appeared on the postcards has appeared? I've never believed in superstition, but now I'm starting to be afraid. I missed you terribly. God knows what a bad girl you are, but I can't forget you for an hour. At first, all the girls from afar somehow looked like you. I even suspected that something was wrong with my head.»
«Dear Malyusia, you probably never think about me, because I don't seem to be hiccupping. If this sign is true, then you must consider me your worst enemy. You should be hiccupping from morning to evening, from evening to morning. Because you are always with me, because "blue-blue eyes shine into my soul like the first violets in spring."
I studied your only letter like a diplomatic note. But you probably won't be a statesman. Even though you have everything you need for that. You can speak in riddles, but a statesman must also be able to make promises. And you, my little minister, promise nothing.»
((Everything that follows will be without an attached photo, as unfortunately Tumblr does not allow more than 10 photos per post.))
«I can imagine how happy you are that your cranky husband can spend an extra day in Kyiv. The little tiger, if he could, would not have written you this unnecessary letter today, but would have appeared in person. To be honest, when I left you, I was afraid that I would still be throwing lascivious glances at girls, but I was afraid in vain. Now you are the only one who exists for me. That's right. Do you understand, stripy? If you don't like it, then complain to the police.»
«I bow to my little mistress! I kiss you from the first line, because I can't wait to the last one. I am staying temporarily at Yurka's for two days; tomorrow I will go to the dormitory.»
I'm writing because if I talk, I'm bound to get confused and say something stupid. And then you don't like my habit of showing off my gnarly teeth.
I want to tell you this: I would be the last person to think of deceiving you. I drowned in your blue eyes. If another girl had dared to think of me the way you did, I assure you that at best I would never have spoken to her even about the weather. But I wasn't even really offended by you, because no one else has ever bothered me like that, because there is not a minute that goes by when I don't think about you, and there is not a night that I don't dream about you. You may not believe it, but I may die on this word if I write a lie.»
