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.
****
Lt Colonel John McCrae. 3 May 1915
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I’m not a fan of poetry, but I do like this.
I was on the bus today when the 11am silence came up and over on the grass in the park, the tractor lawnmower driver pulled over under a tree and bowed his head.
I wouldn’t have noticed if we weren’t at a stop light.
Thank you *shivers down my spine * very beautiful
I love poetry, and I have always loved this poem 🙂
Very beautiful. I remember reciting this one in school back in the 60’s. I hope we can honor the soldiers while at the same time working for peace.