Журавли [Zhuravli] [English translation]

It seems to me, sometimes, that the soldiers,

Those, who on bloody fields remained,

They didn't lay their heads on our soil,

But turned into a beautiful white cranes.

They are from those distant times till now

Keep calling out loud for us and fly.

Isn't it so, that we in sadness often bow

Then fall in silence, while looking at the sky?

A tired cranes triangle in the sky is flying,

The end of day, it flies into the mist,

And there is a small gap in that line,

Perhaps a place for me is still exist.

A day will come and with the flock of cranes

In a blue haze I'll float, just like one tonight,

From Heavens, like a bird, I'll call your names

All of you, who on this earth I left alive.

It seems to me, sometimes, that the soldiers,

Those, who on bloody fields remained,

They didn't lay their heads on our soil,

But turned into a beautiful white cranes.

Anatoli Trojanowski