On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month….
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.
Flanders Fields and Other Poems
(a 1919 collection of poems by John McCrae)
From Wikipedia:
“In Flanders Fields” is one of the most notable poems written during World War I, created in the form of a French rondeau. It has been called “the most popular poem” produced during that period. Canadian physician and Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae is popularly believed to have written it on 3 May 1915 (see 1915 in poetry), after he witnessed the death of his friend, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, 22 years old, the day before. The poem was first published on 8 December of that year in the London-based magazine Punch.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_Flanders_Fields
