Place that bayonet in my hand, <br />And fill this pouch with lead; <br />Show me the blood and leave me, and let me <br />Stand <br />By my dead. <br /> <br />Cover those staring eyes and go <br />And stab in the red, red rain. <br />Show me that blood and leave me. They groan <br />In the snow. <br />With the pain. <br /> <br />Cover his head with a scarlet cloak, <br />And run to your scarlet strife, <br />Show me that blood and leave me, where white <br />Snows choke <br />Out the life. <br /> <br />Turn his face to the sanguine skies, <br />The skies where the red stars move. <br />Show me that blood and leave me; a dead man lies <br />With his love.<br /><br />Leon Gellert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/red-84/
