The cranes

Russian song today like last time, Журавли | Žuravlĵí is the title, and the same as this post's. The text I give is my mashup of three versions, there will probably be a post on Deciphering unknown languages with Michele Gorini about this song. Where there are options, the left one is for female singer to male addressee, the right one is the opposite. I doubt any other pair would have been conceivable when it was written. I translated it first to Italian, on 10/8/20 between 11:01 and 13:46 save for the last two lines of verse 1 done at 14:26, and then to English, hence the post's language, between 12:20 and 12:35 the following day, save for the second half of verse 2 done around 15:50. The Italian had original/alternate versions «Nel mattino il richiamo triste sento delle gru» and «Presto presto» instead of «Molto presto». Let's see it!

Се́рым у́тром крик печа́льный Слы́шу в не́бе журавле́й. Всё проща́ясь улета́ют Ста́ей из родны́х поле́й. По́мнишь их встре́чать весно́ю Вме́сте шли к реке́ с тобо́ю? Как же случи́лось, не зна̇ю, В путь журавле́й провожа́ю Я одна́ / Я оди́н. Ско́ро бе́лой пелено́ю скро́ет снег просто́р поле́й. Но верну́тся к нам весно́ю Сно́ва ста́и журавле́й. Я хочу́, что ты за мно́ю Был/Бы́ла и ле́том и зимо́ю что́бы в любо́е нена́стье мы берегли̇ на́ше сча́стье, ми́лый мой / Ми́лая. Giorno grigio, il richiamo Triste sento delle gru Salutando volan via Dai campi natìi nel ciel lassù In primavera al ruscello – Ricordi? – A incontrarle corremmo. Non so come sia capitato, Con lor nessuno è restato Se non io Molto presto un bianco manto Di neve i campi coprirà In primavera torneranno Gli stormi di gru di nuovo qua Voglio che con me in eterno Tu resti, in estate e in inverno E in qualsiasi tempo ci troviamo Noi la nostra gioia proteggiamo, Caro mio / Cara mia

Sĵérym útrom krik pĵećál'nyj Slýšu v nĵébĵe žuravlĵéj. Vsĵo prośáĵas' ulĵetáĵut Stáĵej iz rodnýkh polĵéj. Pómniš' ikh vstrĵéćat' vĵesnóĵu Vmĵéstĵe šli k rĵekĵé s tobóĵu? Kak že slućílos', nĵe znáĵu, V put' žuravlĵéj provožáĵu Ĵa odná / Ĵa odín. Skóro bĵéloj pĵelĵenóĵu Skróĵet snĵeg prostór polĵéj. No vĵernútsĵa k nam vĵesnóĵu Snóva stái žuravlĵéj. Ĵa khoćú, čto ty za mnóĵu Byl/Býla i lĵétom i zimóĵu Čtóby v lĵubóĵe nĵenást'ĵe My bĵerĵeglí našĵe sćást'ĵe, Mílyj moj / Mílaĵa. This grey morning the sad calling Of the cranes in the sky I hear They bid goodbye as they fly off From their native fields so dear In springtime – do you recall? – we Went to the creek to them all meet Don't know how this came into being But on their way I now see ‘em On my own Soon a mantle of white snowflakes Will on all the fields be lain And in springtime there will come back The flocks of cranes to us again I wish you'll be at my side here Through winter and summer, oh my dear, So that through any bad weather We'll guard our joy together, Me and you.