Giacomo Puccini to a friend

Paris 10 May 1898

I am sick of Paris! I am sick of panting for the fragrant wood,

for the free movement of my belly in wide trousers and no

waistcoat; I pant, I pant after the wind that blows free and

fragrant from the sea; I savor with wide flaring nostrils its

salty breath, and stretch my lungs to breathe it all! I hate

pavements! I hate palaces! I hate capitals! I hate columns

of marble! I love the beautiful column of poplar and fir; I love

the vault of shady glades; I love the green expanse of cool

shelter in forest old or young; I love the blackbird in flight;

I love the woodpecker, seagull, and lark! I hate the horse,

the cat and the toy dog! I hate the steamer, the top hat, the

dress coat, and I hate Paris!