By Rosalie Laune:
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.
This poem was written in 1915 by Major John McCrae, a physician serving in a Canadian artillery unit during World War I. It is believed he wrote it after conducting a burial service for a young Canadian artillery officer who was killed in the Second Battle of Ypres in Belgium.