Срочно нужно стихотворение Михаила Лермонтова "Пророк" на любом языке, кроме оригинала

на английском

Prophet

Since that time when the highest court
Had given me the prophet's vision,
In eyes of men I always caught
The images of sin and treason.

Then I began to promulgate
The clear love's and truth's commandment:
At me all humans threw for that
Hard sticks and stones, like the madmen.

I put sackcloth and ashes on,
And ran -- a beggar -- from the town,
And there I live in desert lone,
Like birds, on food that God sends down;

Here earthly creatures serve me right,
The laws of the Lord obeying;
And stars here hear me in night,
With their rays, like babies, playing.

And when to towns' walls, by chance,
I hurry through the noisy places,
The old men say to younger ones,
With selfish smiles on their faces,

"Look, there is an example for us!
He was expelled from life, like ours:
The fool was forcing us to trust
That God is speaking through his mouth!

So, see, my children: how grim,
Thin, pale he is -- with shaggy hair!
Look, how poor he is and bare,
How despise all people him!"

(хттп-ввв) poetarium.info/lermontov/prorok_esp.htm

4 разных перевода на эсперанто.
Лучший, на мой взгляд - перевод Н. Федотова.

Пророк
The Prophet
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".
1825
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