Cranes

My friend Bill Golden posted this Russian Folksong, Cranes. As an "old soldier" with many friends listed on "the wall" on the D.C. Mall, It touched me deeply. I prefer to listen to Cranes over a shot of Absolute (which I keep in my freezer). Here are the lyrics in english:

Cranes"
(translated and copyright by win081/Anti-Defamation)

It seems sometimes the soldiers
who didn't come home from the bloody battlefields,
weren't buried under the ground,
They turned into white cranes...

That has happened since long time ago,
They have been flying, and calling,
Maybe that's why we are often sadly
and silently, looking into the sky.

They fly and fly up in the sky,
They fly from the morning till the night,
In their formation there is a space;
Probably that space is mine.

The day will come for me to fly,
To fly with these cranes flying in the same blue sky,
I will be calling from the sky, in the crane's calling,
the names of loved ones that I left on the ground.

I think its time for another shot of vodka. Wherever you are, feel free to join me as I look to the sky thinking of my friends... and notice the spot they are saving for me.