By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
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.
3 comments:
I've never been much for poetry, but have to admit I've alwasy been fond of that one.
Thanks for this Mel.
Janet
I have loved that poem since I was a little girl selling poppies outside the church on the Sunday before Memorial Day every year. I found a print, framed, in an antique mall one year, spent over a week trekking back and forth trying to buy it, and it has hung on my wall ever since.
I try to grow poppies and can't.
But I did take lots of pictures of wild poppies in France.
Thank you so much for sharing this.
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