伊丽莎白·芭蕾特致罗伯特·勃朗宁（1）
亲爱的勃朗宁先生：
我从心底里感谢你。你写那封信，本意是想给我带来一些快乐——就算这目标没有达到，我也同样感谢你。何况，这目标完成得十分圆满。如此的手笔写出这样的一封信！心灵的共鸣是值得珍爱的——对我而言，尤其如此。来自一位诗人（而且又是这样的一位诗人）的共鸣，对于我更是同情到极致了！您愿意接受我的感谢作为回报吗？并且还得承认，从泰尔到迦泰基那，古往今来的所有交易中，再没有像以同情的共鸣来换取感谢那样崇高的交易了。
此外，你的仁爱吸引着我。一旦你给予别人太多，就很难再把他甩掉——姑且不论是非曲直，这是个无奈的事实。我想要说的是——当然少不了一番踌躇——如果你没有什么不便，也不费太大劲，愿意从你那“消极状态”中暂且摆脱出来一会儿，指出你从我的诗篇中所看出的显而易见的缺点（当然我不想拿细枝末节来麻烦你），对你的恩惠我将没齿难忘。我是如此地珍视你的意见，并在遥远的地方企盼着它。
我并不打算把自己装扮成特别容易接受批评的人，对你的意见很可能并不完全依从。但是，出于对你的艺术功力，以及对一个艺术家经验的崇高敬意，我相信，如果倾听你对我作品中主要缺点的概括性意见，我决不会一无所得。我所祈求的只是一两句概括性的意见——为了免得你腻烦，我甚至连要求也不敢要求——我只是用女人最拿手的方法——尤其是有求于人时——轻声柔气地向你吐露自己的心愿。
我通常所受到的批评，大都是在文体方面。“只要你肯改变一下自己的风格，那就好了！”但这是一种对作者本身的否定（是不是？）。布封说过“文如其人”——每一个真诚的作家都会有同感。可惜这个事实很难期望某些批评家能够想到，从而减少对作者本人的否定。
我真的有此荣幸几乎与你见面吗？你果真惋惜这个失去的机会吗？但是——要知道——倘若你一旦“身临其境”，也许难免会着凉，或许会厌烦得要命，宁愿保持着那远在“天涯”的距离，甚至比打道回府的感觉还要糟。当然，我并不愿你有“不见反而更好的”念头。相反，我倒希望失去的机会能在将来得到补偿。冬天封闭了睡鼠的眼睛，也禁锢了我；春天，我们会睁开眼睛的，到那时，重新面对外面的世界，我的日子就会好过得多。与此同时，我已琢磨出你的心声——不仅从你的诗里，也从诗中流露的一片仁爱里。凯宁先生常常提起你——亲爱的凯宁先生！提起他，我不禁热泪盈眶——他一直是我的朋友和帮手，我诗篇的朋友、助手、批评者和共鸣者！你很熟悉他吧，我想，你会理解我对他的这份感激之情的。
我写得太长了——尽管已经太长，我还是要加上一笔。我要说，我欠你的情，这不仅是因为你写的这封热情洋溢的信给我带来了快乐，而且还有其他方面——最崇高的一面。我要说，只要我还活着，追求着这崇高的诗的艺术，那么，本着我对诗歌的爱好和忠诚，我一定是你作品的虔诚的崇拜者和效仿者。这是我的肺腑之言——现在终于说出来了。
另外，我引以自豪地永远成为
你忠实的而心存十分感激的
伊丽莎白·芭蕾特
1845年1月11日于温波尔大街50号
Elizabeth Barrett
To
50 Wimpole Street：
Jan。 11； 1845。
I thank you； dear Mr。 Browning； from the bottom of my heart。 You meant to give me pleasure by your letter—and even if the object had not been answered； I ought still to thank you。 But it is thoroughly answered。 Such a letter from such a hand！ Sympathy is dear—very dear to me； but the sympathy of a poet； and of such a poet； is the quintessence of sympathy of me！ Will you take back my gratitude for it？—agreeing； too； that of all the merce done in the world； from Tyre to Carthage； the exchange of sympathy for gratitude is the most princely thing！书 包 网 txt小说上传分享
伊丽莎白·芭蕾特致罗伯特·勃朗宁（2）
For the rest you draw me on with your kindness。 It is difficult to get rid of people when you once have given them too much pleasure— that is a fact； and we will not stop for the moral of it。 What I was going to say—after a little natural hesitation—is； that if ever you emerge without inconvenient effort from your ‘passive state'； and will tell me of such faults as rise to the surface and strike you as important in my poems； （for of course； I do not think of troubling you with criticism in detail） you will confer a lasting obligation on me； and on which I shall value so much； that I covet it at a distance。
I do not pretend to any extraordinary meekness under criticism and it is possible enough that I might not be altogether obedient to yours。 But with my high respect for your power in your Art and for your experience as an artist； it would be quite impossible for me to hear a general observation of yours on what appear to you my masterfaults without being the better for it hereafter in some way； I ask for only a sentence or two of general observation—and I do not ask even for that； so as to tease you—but in the humble low voice； which is so excellent a thing in women—particularly when they go a begging！
The most frequent general criticism I receive； is； I think； upon the style；—“if I would but change my style！” But that is an objection （isn't it？） to the writer bodily？ Buffon says； and every sincere writer must feel； that “Le style c'est l'homme”；a fact； however； scarcely calculated to lessen the objection with certain critics。
Is it indeed true that I was so near to the pleasure and honor of making your acquaintance？ and can it be true that you look back upon the lost opportunity with any regret？ But—you know—if you had entered the “crypt；” you might have caught cold； or been tired to death； and wished yourself “a thousand miles off”， which would have been worse than traveling them。 It is not my interest； however； to put such thoughts in your head about its being “all for the best”； and I would rather hope （as I do） that what I lost by one chance I may recover by some future one。 Winters shut me up as they do dormouse's eyes； in the spring； we shall see； and I am so much better than I seem turning round to the outward world again。 And in the meantime I have learnt to know your voice； not merely from the poetry but from the kindness in it。 Mr。 Kenyon often speaks of you—dear Mr。 Kenyon！—who most unspeakably； or only speakably with tears in my eyes；—has been my friend and helper； and my book's friend and helper！ critic and sympathiser； true friend of all hours！ You know him well enough； I think； to understand that I must be grateful to him。
I am writing too much；—and not withstanding that I am writing too much； I will write of one thing more。 I will say that I am your debtor； not only for this cordial letter and for all the pleasure which came with it； but in other ways； and those the highest： and I will say that while I live to follow this divine art of poetry； in proportion to my love for it and my devotion to it； I must be a devout admirer and student of your works。 This is in my heart to say to you—and I say it。
And for the rest； I am proud to remain；
Your obliged and faithful
Elizabeth B。 Barrett
莎拉·伯恩哈特致萨杜
莎拉·伯恩哈特（1844—1923），法国戏剧演员、导演，有“女神莎拉”的美誉，以优美的容貌、出色的演技和嗓音成为历史上著名的舞台剧演员，也被誉为“当代最伟大的演员”。
奇 男：
今晚你去哪儿了？你的信一小时前才到——痛苦的一小时——我原希望你能和我在这里共度时光。
没有你，巴黎成了一座太平间。我认识你之前，巴黎就是巴黎，我把它当做天堂；然而现在，它变成了一片荒芜孤寂的沙漠，它像一个没有指针的钟面。
认识你之后，我记忆中的所有画面都黯然失色，取而代之的是我俩共度的美好时光。
现在，离开你，我就活不下去——你说的话，即使是痛恨的话——也能为我驱散世间所有的烦恼，让我快乐；你的话升华了我的艺术，像一个柔软的摇篮轻轻地摇着它；对我而言，你的话就像阳光和空气一样不可缺少。
我渴望听到你说话，就像饥饿的人需要食物，口渴难忍的人需要喝水。你的话就是我的食物，你的气息就是我的美酒。你就是我的一切。
你的莎拉
（无日期）
Sarah Bernhardt
To
（undated）
Wonderful Boy；
Where are you tonight？ Your letter came only an hour ago—cruel hour—I had hoped you would spend it with me here。
Paris is a morgue without you。 Before I knew you； it was Paris； and I thought it heaven； but now it is a vast desert of desolation and loneliness。 It is like the face of a clock； bereft of its hands。
All the pictures that hung in my memory before I knew you have faded and given place to our radiant moments together。
Now I cannot live apart from you—your words； even though bitterdispel all the cares of the world and make me happy； my art has been suckled by them and softly rocked in their tender cradle； they are as necessary to me now as sunlight and air。
I am as hungry for them as for food； I am thirsty for them； and my thirst is overwhelming
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