"In Flanders Fields" is one of the most notable poems written during World War I, perhaps even the most famous war poem of all time. Canadian physician and Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae wrote it on 3 May 1915, after he witnessed the death of his friend, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, 22 years old, the day before.
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.
The day after a battle you have time to realize what has happened and who was taken from you.
After a while, the soldiers begin to say what's the point of all this?
Endless answers given land, religion, whatever.
But always in the end it doesn't really matter.
Love ya,
The sadness and the melancholy that washes over me
on reading this poem is instant and everywhere and stated
so perfectly I am in awe of such use of language.
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beautifully written.
Steve
After a while, the soldiers begin to say what's the point of all this?
Endless answers given land, religion, whatever.
But always in the end it doesn't really matter.
Love ya,
Walt
Love ya!
Jane
on reading this poem is instant and everywhere and stated
so perfectly I am in awe of such use of language.