In Flanders fields

 

In Flanders fields the poppies grow

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.

 

 

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

 

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, May 3, 1915.

 

 Photograph by Benoit Aubry of Ottawa