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Cranes
We, me and my son Dmitriy, dedicate this paraphrase of the Rasul Gamzatov's song to the memory of our heroic father and grandfather isha
* * *
Sometimes I dream that fallen hero soldiers,
Forever lost in brutal old campaigns,
Were never buried under mournful alders,
But turned to mystic snowy craying cranes.
Since then they wing and wing and cry till now.
We recognise the hearty darling voice.
We pray in sorrow, souls dont allow
To take the look away without choice.
The tired flock soars up toward the clouds.
I see a tiny brake in their line:
Someone should exit noisy human crowds.
I realise: one day lot should be mine.
One day the flock shell raise me to the cloud
And i will fly with others dont cry!.
I will put on the cloud as a shroud
And I will hail you faintly from the sky.
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: Oct 16, 2008
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