In Flanders Fields
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
.
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