Dedicated to the 75th anniversary of the victory in the Great Patriotic War.
Music by Yan Frenkel
Lyrics by Rasul Gamzatov
Translated into Russian by Naum Grebnev
Translated into English and arranged by Boris Anisimov
Originally performed by Mark Bernes
English Lyrics:
Sometimes it seems to me, each fallen soldier,
Who never came back home from fields of gore,
In fact, did never perish, as they told you,
But turned into a crane as white as snow.
And ever since those days in their due season
We’ve seen them soaring high across the sky,
With distant voices giving us a reason
To stand in tears and watch them flying by.
A wedge of cranes is fading in the distance.
So far away I can no longer see.
When I run out of days of my existence,
I hope those cranes will find a gap for me
That I may soar above my pain and anguish
And join their ranks like many years ago
Recalling all their names in my new language
And names of those whom I have left below.
Sometimes it seems to me, each fallen soldier,
Who never came back home from fields of gore,
In fact, did never perish, as they told you,
But turned into a crane as white as snow.
Russian Lyrics:
Мне кажется порою, что солдаты,
С кровавых не пришедшие полей,
Не в землю эту полегли когда-то,
А превратились в белых журавлей.
Они до сей поры с времен тех дальних
Летят и подают нам голоса.
Не потому ль так часто и печально
Мы замолкаем, глядя в небеса?
Летит, летит по небу клин усталый -
Летит в тумане на исходе дня,
И в том строю есть промежуток малый -
Быть может, это место для меня!
Настанет день, и с журавлиной стаей
Я поплыву в такой же сизой мгле,
Из-под небес по-птичьи окликая
Всех вас, кого оставил на земле.
Мне кажется порою, что солдаты,
С кровавых не пришедшие полей,
Не в землю эту полегли когда-то,
А превратились в белых журавлей.
8 сен 2024
