СДЕЛАЙТЕ СВОИ УРОКИ ЕЩЁ ЭФФЕКТИВНЕЕ, А ЖИЗНЬ СВОБОДНЕЕ
Благодаря готовым учебным материалам для работы в классе и дистанционно
Скидки до 50 % на комплекты
только до
Готовые ключевые этапы урока всегда будут у вас под рукой
Организационный момент
Проверка знаний
Объяснение материала
Закрепление изученного
Итоги урока
Sometimes it seems to me, each fallen soldier,
Who 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 distant voices giving us a reason
To stand in tears and watch them flying by.
A wedge of cranes is fading in the distance.
So far away I can no longer see.
When I run out of days of my existence,
I hope those cranes will find a gap for me
That I may soar above my pain and anguish
And join their ranks like many years ago
Recalling all their names in my new language
And names of those whom I have left below.
Sometimes it seems to me, each fallen soldier,
Who 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.
© 2021, Воронина Марина Владимировна 257