“Tormented by spiritual thirst,I dragged myself through a somber desert.And a six-winged seraphAppeared to meet me at the crossing of the ways.He touched my eyesWith fingers as light as a dream:And my prophetic eyes openedLike those of a frightened eagle.He touched my earsAnd they were filled with noise and ringing:And I heard the shuddering of the heavens,And the flight of the angels in the heights,And the movement of the beasts of the sea under the waters,And the sound of the vine growing in the valley.He bent down to my mouthAnd tore out my tongue,Sinful, decitful, and given to idle talk;with the right hand steeped in bloodHe inserted the tongue of a wise serpent,Into my benumbed mouth.He clove my breast with a sword,And plucked out my quivering heart,And thrust a coal of live fireInto my gaping breast.Like a corpse I lay in the desert.And the voice of God called out to me:'Arise, O prophet, see and hear,Be filled with my will,Go forth over land and sea,And set the hearts of men on fire with your Word.” Aleksandr Pushkin The Prophet English translation found in New Society, Volume 8, (1966). New Society Limited. p. 413.Also quoted by Kahn, Andrew (2006). The Cambridge Companion to Pushkin. Cambridge University Press, p. 84. The Prophet (1826)