I cannot do anymore.

The finest thing that arose

out of the war-

comradeship.

He is not the first

that I have seen thus,

but we grew up together;

makes it a bit different.

He is dead

“Get up!”

The idea was low,

as if I could save him.

“Where is the doctor?”

“Come quick!”

He is dead.

The weeping woman

at home

to whom I must write

“I wish he was here”

I cannot do anymore.