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