Laudator Temporis Acti

Lucian, The Downward Journey 15 (the poor man Micyllus speaking about the underworld; tr. A.M. Harmon):

And by Heaven I see already that everything is splendid here with you, for that all should have equal rank and nobody be any better than his neighbour is more than pleasant, to me at least. And I infer that there is no dunning of debtors here and no paying of taxes, and above all no freezing in winter or falling ill or being thrashed by men of greater consequence. All are at peace, and the tables are turned, for we paupers laugh while the rich are distressed and lament.

καὶ νὴ Δί' ἤδη καλὰ τὰ παρ' ὑμῖν πάντα ὁρῶ· τό τε γὰρ ἰσοτιμίαν ἅπασιν εἶναι καὶ μηδένα τοῦ πλησίον διαφέρειν, ὑπερήδιστον ἐμοὶ γοῦν δοκεῖ. τεκμαίρομαι δὲ μηδ' ἀπαιτεῖσθαι τὰ χρέα τοὺς ὀφείλοντας ἐνταῦθα μηδὲ φόρους ὑποτελεῖν, τὸ δὲ μέγιστον, μηδὲ ῥιγοῦν τοῦ χειμῶνος μηδὲ νοσεῖν μηδ' ὑπὸ τῶν δυνατωτέρων ῥαπίζεσθαι. εἰρήνη δὲ πᾶσι καὶ πράγματα ἐς τὸ ἔμπαλιν ἀνεστραμμένα· ἡμεῖς μὲν οἱ πένητες γελῶμεν, ἀνιῶνται δὲ καὶ οἰμώζουσιν οἱ πλούσιοι.

The same, tr. H.W. Fowler and F.G. Fowler:

And, on my word, things begin to look well already. Equal rights for all, and no man better than his neighbour; that is hugely to my liking. And from what I can learn there is no collecting of debts in this country, and no taxes; better still, no shivering in winter, no sickness, no hard knocks from one's betters. All is peace. The tables are turned: the laugh is with us poor men; it is the rich that make moan, and are ill at ease.