87 - Konstantin Dmitrievich BALMONT, also known as Don (1867–1942)

Konstantin Dmitrievich BALMONT, also known as Don (1867–1942) Set of 12 autograph letters, 5 postcards, and one envelope, addressed to Jurgis Kasimirovich BALTRUCHAITIS (1873–1944), in Russian, most of them written between 1912 and 1914, with one letter dated 1916. -June 5, 1913 "Jurgis, I wasn’t angry, neither before nor now—that’s not the right word. This dip in spirits, caused by the absence of friends, set in 3–4 days after the great joy of my arrival, my triumph, and my celebrations (...) “But in a moment of dread, my friend, I will not come to you.” That line is mine. It is with emotion that I have been repeating it to myself these past few weeks. I continue to be alone. I love you, as always. But I don’t write, because I have nothing to say. There is nothing in my soul right now but bitterness. And what’s the point of showing bitterness!” "Jurgis, I’m not angry and I haven’t been angry—that’s not the right word. That emotional breakdown, which—due to the absence of friends—arose in me three or four days after the great joy of my arrival, my celebration, and my feast, —that emotional rupture and collapse had such a shattering effect on me that even today I am still stunned and cannot believe it (?). I know that everyone will sing their own song, but knowing and feeling are two different things. “But in that terrible moment, oh, dear friend, I will not come to you.” That is my verse. I have been repeating it with feeling for the past few weeks. And I have continued to be alone. I love you, as always. But I am not writing—for I have nothing to write. There is nothing in my soul right now but bitterness. And what’s the point of showing my bitterness! I embrace you fraternally.” -July 23, 1913, Moscow He is impressed by the independent theater that J.K. Baltruchaïtis and the Mardjanovs showed him, for its refined, luminous quality, and sensing its great potential, he would like to contribute to the cause. "It’s been a whole week already, and I still haven’t gotten around to writing to you. In my mind’s eye, I see myself in those sunny gatherings of the last two days of my four-week absence. I am very grateful to you and the Mardjanovs for the exquisitely joyful experiences you have given me. The entire Free Theater, so friendly and full of the fresh spirit associated with a new beginning, struck me as something spring-like, appealing, and inspiring poetic, luminous imaginings. True, when I looked at all those faces around me—attentive, friendly, and full of goodwill—I got the feeling that something genuine and worthy could emerge here, and I myself would like, to the best of my ability, to contribute some sort of gem of my own—I’m dreaming up some kind of drama, and I’ll definitely write it. Give my regards to the Marjanovs (I don’t know either his or her first or middle name; please let me know) and to Podgaetsky. Write to me about yourself—how you’re doing. And have you received any news from Razumnik? I’m in the midst of Maori-style boredom. And Russian melancholy. Hugs to you." -August 17, 1914, Soulac-sur-Mer Balmont hopes that Jurgis Kasimirovich BALTRUCHAITIS has not been called up at the start of the war. The war inspires in him only one regret: that he cannot himself take part in the fight against the Germans, whom he considers the worst of enemies. "Jurgis, my distant brother, do you still retain the peaceful countenance of a thinking poet, or has Fate already clad you in a soldier’s uniform? I want to believe that you are protected from bullets, bombs, and saber or bayonet blows. The World War stirs something beautiful in my soul, and I have only one regret—that I cannot take a direct part in it. The Germans