| hobbituk ( @ 2007-11-11 11:00:00 |
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Current mood: | sad |
Remembering
IN FLANDERS FIELDS.
In Flanders field 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 with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
~~By Major John McCrae, May 1915.~~
This poem was written during World War I. How sad that nearly one hundred years later, it is still relevant today. Replace Flanders fields for Afghanistan or Iraq, and men, boys, are still dying.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, We will remember them.