In Memoriam
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.
--John McCrae,
May 1915 (about)
Wikipedia entry regarding same here.
I like the way it starts; I like the way it evokes that particular time period, and while I don't know of anyone who likes the real, awful thing it conveys, it's hard not to admire the way it does that.
Others have remarked that the last stanza is somewhat bloodthirsty and I agree, although in regards to that particular war (and, Lord knows, the one that followed it), it's not inappropriate.
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.
--John McCrae,
May 1915 (about)
Wikipedia entry regarding same here.
I like the way it starts; I like the way it evokes that particular time period, and while I don't know of anyone who likes the real, awful thing it conveys, it's hard not to admire the way it does that.
Others have remarked that the last stanza is somewhat bloodthirsty and I agree, although in regards to that particular war (and, Lord knows, the one that followed it), it's not inappropriate.