miércoles, 18 de noviembre de 2009


Alexander Dumas (son).
He was a French writer in nineteen century, whom we can consider between Romantic and Realist for his particular style and point of view to show us the society and customs of his time.
He wrote a novel which I consider important not only for the content, but, as it is based on his real life because its title, "The Lady of the Camellias" is about a passionate, wonderful and true love story he had with Marie Duplessis, a very beautiful young and lively courtesan who devoted to a luxurious and licentious life,had a hasty and sad end due to a painful illness which finished with the glorious "mademoiselle's" existence. She gladly with flowers, decorated her dwelling with hundreds of camellias which were presents of her lovers, so she was given this pseudonym.

I am, my dear readers, bold enough to admit something that nobody really knows and I hope that you could keep it as one of your better kept secrets- so, here you are my own story. But, before you reading it my beloved friends, I shall ask you my last favour- sit down, relax, and open your heart and senses to enjoy this evening story.


Once, while I was wandering through lanes, in Paris ( I prefer not to give more details on the matter) I could see how a coach was running at high speed running over a sealed letter that was in the middle of the road. I bent to pick up with shy movements, noticing that it was a yellowish-white envelope, which was addresed to someone called Marie Duplessis.
I carefully opened it, keeping that anybody would not realize about this special event- and you can imagine ( you, who are now reading this ) what a wonderful hand had written it, that seemed to be a love letter- well of course, He was Alexander Dumas himself! and I shall report it you at this moment in time.

Dear Marie,

I willingly address you again, because I must give shape to my thoughts, with the ink of my pen, and otherwise it could turn me mad. It's the courage you instil me in such a way that:

"Is it, could I not usurp the Zenith its colour, turning it pale, or its vast size reduce to catch it showing you or even giving you?"

"May be, could I not dry the Ocean with the incesant and passionate breath that you memory brings me?"

"Tell me my dear- Why the sound of the rain in its deafening fallen into the floor hypnotices me
pronouncing your divine name?"

-"Why the cold and hot are fusioning together when your irremediable absence is foretold?"

-"Only, in the middle of the night while I am dreaming with you, I feel discover the perfect happiness that may me open the door of the eternal ectasy without knocking".

-"With happiness and grace I will wander Campos Elíseos talking at the top of my voice that I love you, and kissing the pavement where you have been walking I shall follow you without ceasing a rest, until my last breathe without piety, kill me and in front of you I shall throw myself and die".

-"Those lovers whom you have possessed before me, I would wish embrace to feel your warm and ardour over me, so little by little they meet in my decrepitated spirit".

-"May you give me only a date to satisfy my worried feelings about losing you, devouring your figure to immortalize it in my eyes?"

-"But how ephemeral is the path, my darling!"
-"Oh, do not lose heart by death, and your face is tinged with happiness- Taste the chalice of love with me, and that the melody of the dawn, go through your weak veins".

I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Yours for ever, Alexander.

.-Now, my readers, you can see how important is the letter I have, and let me I continue preserving it, for many, many more years- So, keep carefully the secret I've been telling you, in such a way that I can trust in your silence.

To be continued....

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