The cranes fly away

The cranes sank to a forest swamp in the evening,
A late ray illuminated the gilding, maple leaves flying towards.
We wandered through the dark water, the ground is not firm under our feet,
Here, frogs are everywhere, and berries have been pecked at the bumps.
The leader threw back his beak with a trumpet and the whole flock flew up alarmingly:
Everything from adults to small children ... it's impossible to forget about this!
Ascended, the ridiculous legs in the sky were visible like a chassis,
But then we got out a little - the wedge is always unusually beautiful.
Flying over the dome of the temple, over the fields, over the sleepy river,
Following the sun, they strove stubbornly, forgetting about food and peace.
When I hear sad cries, I wave my hand to catch up with them,
And in the spring, from Africa wild, I will ask you to return home.

Author's poems O. Krasnokutsky.