Александр Пушкин Пророк Alexander Pushkin Prophet

Tortured by spiritual thirst,
I dragged myself through gloomy desert, —
And Seraph appeared to me first
At the crossroads, six-winged and feathered.
With fingers as light as a dream
Had touched my eyes winged Seraphim.
Eyes opened as of seers’, sharp like sword,
As those of a scared she eagle bird.
He touched my ears, — and they were filled
With noise and ring: and I heard thrilled,
Strong shudder of the sky belating,
And angels' highland flight for miles,
And diving run of sea reptiles,
And on the vales vine's vegetating,
And to my mouth Seraphim clung,
And tore from it my sinful tongue,
And, being festive, clever and grand,
He has put a wise snake's sting whole,
In my over freezing mouth's hole
With his decisive bloody right hand.
And he cut my chest with a sword,
And took off my heart, tender, unrest,
And pushed the coal, burning and hot,
Into the cavity of my chest.
In desert, I was lying dead,
And voice of God called me and said:
"Arise you, Prophet, hear, heed and stare,
Do my will, on the way or kerb,
Going through lands and seas, here and there,
Do burn the people's hearts with verb".

1-4 October, 2024

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Иллюстрация к стихотворению А. С. Пушкина «Пророк» Illustration to A. S. Pushkin's poem "Prophet"
Художник: Михаил Александрович Врубель, 1899 г. Artist: Mikhail Alexandrovich Vrubel, 1899
Государственная Третьяковская галерея The State Tretyakov Gallery
Источник: rusmuseumvrm.ru