Текст песни Чацкий - Монолог
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And for sure, the light began to fool, You can say with a sigh; How to compare and see this Century and the past century: Freshly a tradition, but hard to believe; As he was famous, whose neck was bent more often; As if not in war, but in the world they took forehead, We knocked on the floor without sparing! To whom is need: to those arrogance, they lie in the dust, And to those who are higher, flattery weaved like lace. There was a direct century of humility and fear, Everything under the guise of zeal for the king. I'm not talking about your uncle; We will not disturb him with dust: But meanwhile, whom will the hunt take, Though in servility by the most ardent, Now, to make people laugh, Is it brave to sacrifice the back of the head? A peer, and the old man, Another, looking at that leap And collapsing in dilapidated skin, Tea, said: - Ah! if only to me! Although there are hunters to impersonate everywhere, Yes, now laughter scares, and keeps shame in check; No wonder they are sparingly sovereign sovereigns.
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