In Flanders Field

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.

by John McCrae

Comments (38)

Very moving poem
I found this poem to be very moving, most poems settle for ok but John Mcrae is not one of them
is john mcdonalds dead?
Very moving and sad lest we forget. Must try and keep peace don't want to go there ever again.
beautifully written with an economy of words. ,
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