«It seems to me sometimes that soldiers fallen, / Whom bloody battlefields have rendered dead, / Were buried not in soil to be forgotten, / But turned into white cranes in flight instead. From that time, since their fate became a coffin / They’ve soared, and issued us a strident cry. / I...»
«Sometimes I think that soldiers, who have never / come back to us from the blood-covered plains, / escaped the ground and didn't cross the River, / but turned instead into white screeching cranes. And since that time the flock is flying, narrow / or wide, or long — and maybe that is why /...»
«Sometimes it seems to me each fallen soldier / That 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 distan...»
«時々私は兵士たちのことを思う / 血まみれの戦場から帰ることのなかった彼らのことを / 兵士たちはいつか、わが大地で眠りについたのではなく / 白い鶴に姿を変えたのだ、と 彼らはあれから今もずっと / 飛び続け...»