Saturday, April 6, 2019

National Poetry Month: Poem #10




In Flanders Fields
By John McCRae
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 is a rondeau, written by McCrae while a doctor in the trenches; he also died. Many Canadian soldiers volunteered for WWI after reading this. The poem was found in their pockets after they became casualties.



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