“Why are they riddling an ancient cathedral with holes? Because for a hundred years a bloated priest sat here, hiccuping, taking bribes and selling vodka

“Why are they riddling an ancient cathedral with holes? Because for a hundred years a bloated priest sat here, hiccuping, taking bribes and selling vodka.
Why do they foul the manor houses so dear to our hearts? Because girls were raped and flogged there, if not by that squire, then by his neighbour.
Why are they felling the century-old parks? Because for a hundred years, beneath their spreading limes and maples, the gentry displayed their power: thrusting their purses under the nose of the poor man, and their learning under the nose of the fool.
All this is so.
I know what I am saying. There is no riding around this on horseback. There is no possibility of keeping silent about it; and yet everyone does keep silent.
I doubt no one's personal nobility, no one's personal grief; but are we not answerable for the past? We are links in a single chain. Or do the sins of the fathers lie upon us? If everyone does not feel this, then the “best” must feel it.”

Alexander Blok.