The Conscript

Goodbye, old comrade, goodbye!
Let this not be adieu!
I’ll bring you some glory
back from the burning fields!
I’ll bring you the skin of a tiger!
Think of me and my red nose!
Goodbye, old comrade, goodbye!

*

My boots are worn out with marching
and the snow is falling
 awfully
  slow
   on
    my
     hat.