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 … - John McCrae

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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