In Flander's Field 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, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
"In Flander's Field" is a memorable poem that was written by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae in a cemetery in the Flanders region of Belgium on May 3, 1915, the day after the death of his young friend, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer.
Perhaps the most famous poem written during World War I, these simple but powerful fifteen lines, and the poppies they immortalize, have come to symbolize fallen soldiers. I think this is the perfect remembrance for Memorial Day and I post it every year.
Image: Painting by Willy Werner
