No need, comrade, in this unceasing pain Of yours to call for help. Strange, but it’s you I call to help me, to warm my hands again. Yes, on your still warm blood I’ll warm mine too . . . So do not worry, do not weep or bleed! Nothing can harm you now that you are dead. Can you help me? There’s one thing I still need – Your boots . . . There are still battles ahead.
