Michail Lermontov - Prophet

Since I’ve been granted by the God
The prophet’s  gift of knowing, 
In people’s eyes, I can’t but see
The malice they are showing

So I began to preach them love
And truth’s unsullied knowledge,
The neighbors answered with the rage
And hurled at me the stones

I put the ashes o’er my side
And fled the cities, wretched,
Now, in a desert I reside
And eat the crumbs God fetches   

I keep the Testament’s ordeal,
All beings hear my prayers ; 
And stars are watchful of my will, 
And rays, they're jolly players

Whereas, if noisy towns I pass,
I try to disappear
Because I hear the old men say
To children, with a sneer,

“Look here, a lesson there for you:
He’s arrogant and itchy,    
A fool, he wanted to pretend
That God speaks through his preachin'!

Look, children, at his worn-out air:
How pale and how sullen!
How poor he looks, and  how bare,
How all despise him, fallen !" 




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