by By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
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.
4 comments:
A very moving way to remember them...I had tears in yes.
Very nice tribute, Paulie. It's hard to believe we are thinking back 65 years to 1944. WWII seems so long ago but at the same time rather recent in history. I sure wish humans couls learn to get along.
Beautiful flowers and I've always loved the poem.
Touching. Thanks for this meaningful post.
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