An Exchange of Letters, 17th November, 1777
A ma tres chere soeur,
I want to discuss targets if it’s not too late or too distressing. What I have in mind is a short, fair-haired man, doubled over and revealing his bottom. There’s a balloon coming out of his mouth that will say 'bon appetit' to a dark haired man wearing boots, a crimson cloak and a fashionable wig. He should be of ordinary height and placed in such a position that he could lick the other man’s backside. A second balloon is coming out of his mouth with the words: 'Poof, there’s nothing sweeter than this!'
Mama sends kisses to you and Papa and she has a message for the new maid, Liserl - make sure to beat the quilts in the hall cupboard in case of moths. Meanwhile, I embrace you from the depths of my heart and remain your obedient brother, Wolfgango Amadeo.
To which I replied from Salzburg:
Mon tres, tres cher frere,
The bull’s eye for this target will be somewhere inside the mouth of the blond man, perhaps on the tip of his tongue. If you and Mama are agreed, I’ll save this particular target for your return as you seem to fancy it so much.
Please do not forget that the Salzburg post goes on Mondays and Thursdays and it would greatly soothe Papa if you would remember to begin your letters by saying, ‘I received your letter of the such-and-such.’ It upsets him to think that what we write may never arrive.
Last week we had some shooting in our house. Papa painted the target. I shot on Mama’s behalf and lost nine kreuzer. Katherl Gilowska shot for you and won the most, so you are rich at last!
A farewell bark from Miss Pimperl. I kiss Mama’s hands a thousand times and embrace my dear and only brother - there are no moths,
Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Addlepated Mozart.
I want to discuss targets if it’s not too late or too distressing. What I have in mind is a short, fair-haired man, doubled over and revealing his bottom. There’s a balloon coming out of his mouth that will say 'bon appetit' to a dark haired man wearing boots, a crimson cloak and a fashionable wig. He should be of ordinary height and placed in such a position that he could lick the other man’s backside. A second balloon is coming out of his mouth with the words: 'Poof, there’s nothing sweeter than this!'
Mama sends kisses to you and Papa and she has a message for the new maid, Liserl - make sure to beat the quilts in the hall cupboard in case of moths. Meanwhile, I embrace you from the depths of my heart and remain your obedient brother, Wolfgango Amadeo.
To which I replied from Salzburg:
Mon tres, tres cher frere,
The bull’s eye for this target will be somewhere inside the mouth of the blond man, perhaps on the tip of his tongue. If you and Mama are agreed, I’ll save this particular target for your return as you seem to fancy it so much.
Please do not forget that the Salzburg post goes on Mondays and Thursdays and it would greatly soothe Papa if you would remember to begin your letters by saying, ‘I received your letter of the such-and-such.’ It upsets him to think that what we write may never arrive.
Last week we had some shooting in our house. Papa painted the target. I shot on Mama’s behalf and lost nine kreuzer. Katherl Gilowska shot for you and won the most, so you are rich at last!
A farewell bark from Miss Pimperl. I kiss Mama’s hands a thousand times and embrace my dear and only brother - there are no moths,
Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Addlepated Mozart.
posted by Nannerl at 10:03 AM
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