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.
Comments
last commentNice thought but really more fitting for Memorial Day.
But thanks.
Log in to vote
^Actually not. It was written by a WW1 vet about the Great War.
Growing up in Canada we celebrated Remembrance Day by memorizing this poem and we were all issued pin-on poppies.
Log in to vote
nice
Log in to vote