Flanders Fields

by John McCrae

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
Although we lie in Flanders Fields.

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[Posted in honour of those who died in war — not just those who fought for Canada, but all soldiers who have ever died in battle.
Remembrance Day, 2009.
You won’t be forgotten.]

[Added November 11, 2009.]