Updated: Feb 19, 2020
While I was reading my notes from one of my favorite master Maria Szepes, I found a letter which was written by her husband Bela Szepes in 1933 on their 3. anniversary of their marriage.
It is the love, which survived 2 world wars and all the struggles of poverty, grief and loss.
It is the love which was tested by time and which built galaxies, and universe
and remains with us in thousands of teachings.
If there is a definition of power couples, the secret lies right there, building up each other through the most difficult times of history.
I tried to translate the letter and I tried to give back something from that unspeakable connection between that two.
Berlin, Saturday 9:30
My Sweet Love, my only One.
I’ve just finished the letter to my Mum. I reviewed it and I was shocked from the emptiness, which spread from it. My God! It is the child’s letter to his mum.
How much love, gratitude, respect should have sound out of it; This is the childish love, the unrestrainable, strong relationship, which is grown through the anguish of a birth, which transformed together by common pain through several lifetimes.
My letter contained only empty meaningless words.
Despite of all my understanding and acknowledgement I am unable to put into my greetings, what is inside me – that feeling, what the son has towards his mum.
This love, all the suppressed feelings broke through to find a way for themselves. And where else could they find a better place than in You.
If I have some free minutes here in my workplace to think about my destiny, everytime I end up at the same point again and again: I have to shame myself.
I shame my helplessness, my weakness, which has appeared so many times towards You. This is the exact opposite of your vibrant, balanced, strong and pure personality.
How amazing grace is from destiny, that all that love and respect, which I lost towards my mum, the one, of the highest award of all, finally ended in You.
I am so grateful for the Divine for repaying my weakened goodwill high above my greatest imagination. Or could it be paid by my previous life’s struggles? Because that is definitely not from this life.
How small is the amount, I could benefit from my situation. How little is the time I can be with You, learn from You, speak with You. How small is the place inside me to include all that great contain, which is You. How could I understand and process it all.
If you read this, may you think I have one of my weak moment, and I write this letter from that influence.
No. It is not my weak moment. All my weak moments are the ones, which I waste without thinking about these things. I know that you wont see me that way through the veil of your goodwill, and your gender love. You might judge my words as overreacted. No worries.
Maybe later – once – when I will be mature enough to make our old dream come true.
I will pack you and take you to a silent lake near the great forests. And over there, I will open all those trap-doors, which were forced to lock on us by the everyday bread-problems. Over there, we will reach backwards far away till the little roman white-pillared house or to that lonely hunting lodge, back to Elena Ingeborg.
Somehow there is an other cataract laying on that secret. The cataract which is my own body.
All those experiences - which I earned by reaching you - are saved, but I am still unable to use the entire capacity of your wholeness.
Hundreds and thousands years of bitter, xenophobe feeling has died slowly to give place to that warmness, which was born by your love, the love what is the only reality for me.
I am not judging myself. The stone is not guilty for taking millions of years to become a plant. I just have a flaming yearn to reunite with You, and to be one with You.
Now I can still say: You are my everything, my wife my love, my mum, my daughter… and than I will become ‘just’ one with You.
Than, it wont be so painful if I cant see You or feel You, and may be when we reach that time, I will pass all the disadvantage which is hanging on me as a heavy weight right now.
It is such a miracle to run to you. How futile is all the useless time, step and act which does not lead to you.
God, please make us worthy to achieve the time of our holiday, for our first undisturbed period with each other, which is just a far dream right now.
You can see now how much I love You, that I can not handle it without tears to think about You.
Some kind of weakness came upon me, some hot gratitude, which will burn all the slag out.
Dont you think so, My Little Sweetheart.
I am running to You,
Still than, God Bless You, My Love
Source: Maria Szepes: Diary - free translation
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