Пророк - пер. А. С. Пушкина

In desert barren I did rove
In search for power of spirit.
And suddenly on the crossroads
The six-winged Seraphim appeared.
With fingers lightly as a dream
He touched my closed eyes. As if
The eyes of scared eagless wide
Prophetic pupils glanced outside.
My ears then he touched, - a ring,
A rattle, a noise all space had filled:
And I accepted the heaven's shudder,
And angels flying high above me,
The creatures under water racing,
The green grapevine vegetating.
And then he nestled to my lips
And pulled out my tongue by tip,
So crafty, sin and chattering therein,
And then he load there a sting
Of a wise snake right into my lips,
All frozen, with his right hand,
The bloody hand, and cut my breast
With his sword, took out my heart,
Which trembled gently in his sight,
And there loaded a coal,
Flaring as a fire gold,
Into the hole of my breast.
As deadly corpse I lied in desert,
The Voice of Gods had then appealed:
"Stand up, the prophet, look and heed,
Take power of mine, proceed
To vast lands, oceans and seas.
Burn with a Word the hearts of people."

1826

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Духовной жаждою томим,
В пустыне мрачной я влачился, —
И шестикрылый серафим
На перепутье мне явился.
Перстами легкими как сон
Моих зениц коснулся он.
Отверзлись вещие зеницы,
Как у испуганной орлицы.
Моих ушей коснулся он, —
И их наполнил шум и звон:
И внял я неба содроганье,
И горний ангелов полет,
И гад морских подводный ход,
И дольней лозы прозябанье.
И он к устам моим приник,
И вырвал грешный мой язык,
И празднословный и лукавый,
И жало мудрыя змеи
В уста замершие мои
Вложил десницею кровавой.
И он мне грудь рассек мечом,
И сердце трепетное вынул,
И угль, пылающий огнем,
Во грудь отверстую водвинул.
Как труп в пустыне я лежал,
И бога глас ко мне воззвал:
«Восстань, пророк, и виждь, и внемли,
Исполнись волею моей,
И, обходя моря и земли,
Глаголом жги сердца людей».

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см. также
Евгения Саркисьянц
Prophet

To quench my spirit’s thirsty flame
I dragged me through the desert dreary;
And six-winged seraph to me came
When at the crossroads I stood weary.
By touch, as airy as a dream,
He wakened sight of mine, ere slim;
Mine eye then saw ahead as aptly
As eagle sees when scared abruptly.
He wakened ear of mine, ere dim;
Mine ear then filled with noise and vim,
At once I sensed the heavens thunder
And heard how angels fly divine,
How dwells the doleful earthly vine,
How moves deep down the ocean wonder.
And to my lips with force he clung
And ripped out my irreverent tongue,
Insidious be or vainly blurting;
My deadened lips he did thence take,
The sting and wisdom of a snake
With heavy bloody hand inserting.
His sword dissected my weak breast,
To take the breathing heart he followed,
And flaming coal instead he pressed
Inside the open breast so hollowed.
Like corpse I lied mid desert cold.
Almighty voice on me thence called:
"Rise, prophet, and behold, and gather,
Fulfill the willing of thy Lord,
And as you traverse high and nether, 
Burn hearts of people with thy word."

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Два перевода, автора второго не знаю
      The Prophet

      My lonely heart athirst, I trod
      A barren waste when, so 'twas fated,
      A winged seraph 'fore me stood:
      Where crossed the desert roads he waited.
      Upon my orbs of sightless clay
      His fingers lightly he did lay.
      And like a startled eagle round me
      I gazed and saw the earth surrounded,
      Hemmed in by sky... He touched my ear,
      Then t'other, and, most marked and clear,
      There came to me the gentle flutter
      Of angels' wings, I heard the vine
      Push through the earth and skyward climb,
      The deep-sea monsters in the water
      Like tiny fishes glide... And o'er
      Me calm he bent and out he tore
      My sinful tongue... Not once withdrawing
      His gaze from mine, he pushed, unseen,
      A serpent's deadly sting between
      My ice-cold lips... Then, swiftly drawing
      His shining sword, he clove my breast,
      Plucked out my quivering heart, and, sombre
      And grim of aspect, coolly thrust
      Into the gaping hole an ember
      That ran with flame... I lay there, dead,
      And God, God spake, and this He said:
      "Arise, O sage! My summons hearing,
      Do as I bid, by naught deterred;
      Stride o'er the earth, a prophet, searing
      The hearts of men with righteous word."
      Translated by I.Zheleznova

      The Prophet
      Parched with the spirit's thirst, I crossed
      An endless desert sunk in gloom,
      And a six-winged seraph came
      Where the tracks met and I stood lost.
      Fingers light as dream he laid
      Upon my lids; I opened wide
      My eagle eyes, and gazed around.
      He laid his fingers on my ears
      And they were filled with roaring sound:
      I heard the music of the spheres,
      The flight of angels through the skies,
      The beasts that crept beneath the sea,
      The heady uprush of the vine;
      And, like a lover kissing me,
      He rooted out this tongue of mine
      Fluent in lies and vanity;
      He tore my fainting lips apart
      And, with his right hand steeped in blood,
      He armed me with a serpent's dart;
      With his bright sword he split my breast;
      My heart leapt to him with a bound;
      A glowing livid coal he pressed
      Into the hollow of the wound.
      There in the desert I lay dead,
      And God called out to me and said:
      'Rise, prophet, rise, and hear, and see,
      And let my works be seen and heard
      By all who turn aside from me,
      And burn them with my fiery word.'

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      Вячеслав Четин
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtcSKiqB3YY

Tormented by spiritual lack,
I slogged my way in gloom deserted;
A six-winged seraph showed at last,
Before me, when the road dissevered.
And o’er my pupils did he skim
His fingers, airy as a dream, -
Prophetic pupils gaped and peered, like
Those of a frightened female eagle.
He ran the fingers o'er my ears, -
The ears got filled with noise and peals.
And I heard heaven's trepidation,
And angels' empyrean drive,
And sea-beasts' underwater life,
And valley osiers’ vegetation...
And, having nestl'd against my mouth,
He rooted erring tongue mine out,
The tongue both idle and deceiving,
And thrust a cunning serpent’s sting
Inside my mouth, like  frozen stiff, 
With his right hand, stained by my bleeding...
He split my thorax with a blade,
Took out a quivering heart from it,
And then a blazing coal, instead,
Inserted in my open thorax...
Like dead, I lay amid the wastes;
And, by the God's voice, was addressed:
"Arise, behold and heed you, prophet,
Give up to my will, hence and forth,
And, travelling through lands and waters,
Sting hearts of people with the word!"


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