Cranes
I sometimes think that warriors brave
Who met their death in body fight
Were never buried in a grave
But rose as cranes with plumage white.
Since then unto this very day
They pass high overhead and cry.
Is that not why we often gaze
In silence as the cranes go by?
In far-off foreign lands I see
The cranes in evening's dying glow
Fly quickly past in company,
As once on horseback they would go.
And as they fly far out of reach
I hear them calling someone's name.
Is that not why our Avar speech
Recalls the clamour of a crane?
Across the weary sky they rase
Who friend and kinsman used to be,
And in their ranks I see a spase -
Perhaps they're keeping it for mee?
One day I'll join the flock of cranes,
With them I shall go winging by,
And you who here on earth remain
Will listen to my strident cry.
Translated into English by Peter Tempest
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