griboedov "gore ot uma" – The final monologue Chatsky

Author: griboedov "gore ot uma"
Name: The final monologue Chatsky

Song Lyrics

Not obrazumlyus ... blame,
        And I listen, do not understand,
As if still want me to explain,
Was confused thoughts ... something expect.
(With fervor.)
Blind! I was looking for someone to award all works!
Hurry! .. I flew! trembling! Now happiness, thought close.
Previous daviche whom I so passionately and so low
        It was waster tender words!
And you! Oh my God! who themselves have chosen?
When I say the ones you prefer!
     What lured me hope?
        Why should I not just told,
What all the past you've been paying into laughter?
        What memory even you loathsome
Those feelings in our hearts both movements of those
That did not dampen any distance in me,
No entertainment, no change of places.
Breathe, and they lived, I was constantly busy!
to say that you will flash my arrival,
My appearance, my words, and actions - all disgusting -
I am with you to immediately put a stop to intercourse,
        And before you leave for ever,
        I would not get very,
     Who is this man you dear? ..
You make peace with him, on reflection mature.
     Himself destroy, and why!
Think about it, you can always
Protect and swaddle and sposylat for business.
Man-boy, a man-servant, the pages of Zhenya -
The high ideal of Moscow all men. -
Enough! .. With you, I'm proud of my break.
And you, sir, my father, you are passionate to the reasons:
I wish you a happy slumber in the dark,
I matchmaking my not threatening you.
     Another well-behaved there,
     Sycophants and businessman,
     advantages finally
     He is the future father-equal.
     So! I sobered completely,
Dreams of sight - and slept a veil;
        Now not bad it was used in succession
     On the daughter and father
        And a fool-lover
And the whole world to vent all the bile and all the annoyance.
Who was! Where I threw the fate!
All driven! all curse! Tormentors crowd
In love, traitors, tireless in enmity,
     Storytellers indomitable,
Awkward clever, crafty Prostyakov,
     Sinister old women, old men,
Senescent over inventions, nonsense -
Mad I glorified you all in unison.
You are right: from the fire will be released unharmed,
     Who you will have time to spend the day,
     Breathe one air,
     And in her mind escape.
Away from Moscow! here I am no longer the rider.
Run, do not look back, I'll go look around the world,
Where there is a sense of offended corner! -
        COACH me, the coach!
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