In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae (1872-1918)
by John McCrae (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.
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.
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.
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.
5 comments:
Beautiful post! Today is a day to remember.
PS I love your new photo!
Man and Dog
Who's this--alone with stone and sky?
It's only my old dog and I--
It's only him; it's only me;
Alone with stone and grass and tree.
What share we most--we two together?
Smells, and awareness of the weather.
What is it makes us more than dust?
My trust in him; in me his trust.
Here's anyhow one decent thing
That life to man and dog can bring;
One decent thing, remultiplied
Till earth's last dog and man have died.
SIEGFRIED SASSOON
How can we not be moved by this poem? It well deserves its place in every Remembrance Day service or whenever it is recited.
Thank you all three.
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