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.
Celsius 233
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, come the day when this is past;
And we have fought our last.
Then Flander’s fields will continue grow;
Without the bodies buried below…
Ian Welsh
Nice Celcius.
Formerly T-Bear
The Guardian has some Great War poems being professionally read here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/video/2012/nov/11/sean-bean-first-world-war-poetry-video (video automatically starts)
P.S. Second Ian’s Nice ºC
Celsius 233
^ Thank you…