So once they made me stay
for the night.
Well, I stayed for the night.
I went to bed.
And in the middle of the night,
you know…
The door opens,
and an old woman appears in my room.
She was about eighty, absolutely deaf,
and with an enema bag in her hands.
And, pardon me,
she gave me an enema.
I didn’t resist. I decided
it was a custom at their house.
And in the morning I found out
that she just got the wrong room.
After that, of course, I stopped
visiting them as a suitor.
- And what’s even more funny…
- It’s neither funny, nor proper!
Thank you! My flesh is yearning for
a smoke. I haven’t smoked today yet.
Last winter at the opera
I saw a young man cry
under the impact of beautiful music.
- Do you think it’s good?
- It’s very good.
Then tell me, please,
why the ladies and gentlemen
around him were smiling?
Smiling at what?
- Porfiry Semyonovich.
- I’m listening.
It’s them, simple people like him,
are the keepers of morality.
In them is the salvation of our idea.
You’re stepping on his foot.
In our time people lived differently,
they loved differently.
We loved women
like gallant knights.
We treated them differently,
we saw in them the best person.
And the woman, Sergey Pavlovich,
is the best person.
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