Sunday, May 24, 2020

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.


John McCrae, MD.  Lieutenant Colonel of the Canadian Expeditionary Force

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