Friday, November 11, 2011

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

  Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

John McCrae (1872-1918) was a Canadian surgeon treating wounded soldiers in the Great War. This poem was composed while sitting in the back of an ambulance in Ypres, Belgium in the spring of 1915. In Flanders Fields is recited today in most services across Canada.

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