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.
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.
By Dr John McCrae, 1915
what a lovely post!
ReplyDeleteIt's such a lovely poem....Seemed only right to post it today x
DeleteThis poem always makes me want to cry
ReplyDeleteIt is such an emotional poem x
DeleteLovely poem
ReplyDeleteIt is x
DeleteSuch a lovely tribute. I memorized the poem years ago--thanks for the post.
ReplyDeleteI learnt it at school....
DeleteBeautiful poem. I've seen quite a few real heart felt ones around this year xx
ReplyDeleteThis poem always gives me goosebumps - very powerful
ReplyDeleteBeautiful image to go with a beautiful poem.
ReplyDelete