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[shoism.livejournal.com]

I took a school history trip to Holland/France/Belgium on the March break. I said if I knew a prayer I would recite one before we entered Tyne Cott Cemetery (in the picture); my friend immediately began to recite this poem instead and the rest of the students, and teachers, on the trip joined in. It was definitely one of the moments in life I will carry with me forever.



In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915

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.

Comments

[glass-doll.livejournal.com]

long been a favourite of mine

thanks for posting it!