In Flanders Fields BY JOHN MCCRAE
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields BY JOHN MCCRAE
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce 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 dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.