Журавли [Zhuravli] [English translation]

It seems to me sometimes, that soldiers,

From fields of blood they never returned,

Though in foreign lands lie buried,

Like white cranes their spirits return.

They are here from the mists of ages

They fly into our hearts they speak.

Not so often because it's so sad

Are we silent while looking to heaven ?

Flying, flying weary like a wedge in the sky,

They fly in the mists at the dawn of the day.

And in that symmetry there exists a small rift--

Maybe this is the place for me.

A day will arrive with a siege of cranes

I will float in the same blue haze,

From under the heavens a soaring anthem

To all of you who were left behind.

It seems to me sometimes, that soldiers,

From fields of blood they never returned,

Though in foreign lands lie buried,

Like white cranes their spirits return.