Where shall I find you in a year - fifteen months? It is very
possible that I shall come and look for you in Vienna, but then I
shall assuredly not leave without taking you with me.
I have some thoughts of spending the following winter at
Constantinople. I am tired of the West; I want to breathe
perfumes, to bask in the sun, to exchange the smoke of coal for
the sweet smoke of the narghileh [Turkish pipe]. In short, I am
pining for the East! O my morning land! O my Aborniko! -
My uncle writes that you have been very good and obliging to him.
I thank you warmly. - Do you meet Castelli from time to time? When
you see him beg him from me to translate the article I published
in the Paris "Revue Musicale" (of August 23rd) on Paganini, and
to get it put into the "Theater-Zeitung". I should be very glad
also if it could be translated into Hungarian, for the Hirnok
(excuse me if I make a mess of the word!), but I do not know who
could do it.
A propos of Hungarian! I shall always value highly the work on my
sojourn in Pest. Send it me as soon as you possibly can, and
address it to Madame la Comtesse d'Agoult, 10, Rue Neuve des
Mathurins, Paris. Most affectionate remembrances to Kriehuber.
His two portraits of me have been copied in London. They are
without doubt the best.
Adieu, my dear excellent Schober. In my next letter I shall ask
you about a matter of some consequence. It is about a Cantata for
Beethoven, which I should like to set to music and to have it
given at the great Festival which we expect to organize in 1842
for the inauguration of the Statue at Bonn.
Yours ever most affectionately,
F. Liszt
29. To Buloz
[Published in Ramann's "Franz Liszt," vol. ii., I.]
Editor of the Revue des Deux Mondes.
Sir,
In your Revue Musicale for October last my name was mixed up with
the outrageous pretensions and exaggerated success of some
executant artists; I take the liberty to address a few remarks to
you on this subject. [The enthusiastic demonstrations which had
been made to him in Hungary, his native land, had been put into a
category with the homage paid to singers and dancers, and the
bestowal of the sabre had been turned into special ridicule.
Liszt repelled this with justifiable pride.]
The wreaths thrown at the feet of Mesdemoiselles Elssler and
Pixis by the amateurs of New York and Palermo are striking
manifestations of the enthusiasm of a public; the sabre which was
given to me at Pest is a reward given by a NATION in an entirely
national form.
