Текст песни А.С. Пушкин - Пророк

Tormented by spiritual thirst,
The gloomy desert I dragged -
And the six-winged seraph
I was at a crossroads.
Fingers light as a dream
My Zenica touched it.
Were opened prophetic apple,
Like a frightened eagle.
He touched my ears -
And they filled the noise and ringing:
And I listened to the sky shudder,
And heavenly angels flying,
And reptile sea submerged speed,
And sub vines stagnation.
And he clung to my lips,
And I tore my sinful tongue,
And prazdnoslovny and sly,
And the sting of the serpent mudryya
In my mouth stilled
I invested bloody right hand.
And he cut my chest with the sword,
And my heart took a quivering,
And UHL, blazing fire,
During breast vodvinul holes.
Like a corpse in the desert I lay
And the voice of God called to me:
"Arise, O Prophet, and vizhd, and give ear,
Be filled with the will of my,
And, bypassing the sea and land,
Verb burn the hearts of people. "