Журавли [Zhuravli] [English translation]

It seems to me sometimes that the fallen soldiers

Who didn’t come from the bloody fields of war

They laid down their lives for their native land

And turned into the white cranes that we adore

From those distant times they are still vibrant

They fly above, we hear their cries

And maybe that is why so often we are silent

When we are gazing up into the skies?

There is that flock of cranes, it’s flying tired

At the end of day, it's flying in the foggy mist

Inside that rank there's a tiny space an aisle

Perhaps a spot that's meant to be for me?

The day will come and with that flock of cranes

I’ll drift away inside that grayish strand

From out there, from the sky I will be crying

To you, all those who I left out here on the land

Sometimes I think about the fallen soldiers

That didn’t come back home from the bloody fields of war

That they hadn't fallen into the ground

But turned into the flying cranes that we adore