On the 11th day of the 11th month at the 11th hour, we shall pause to remember.
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.
written during the First World War by Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae.
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| Lt Colonel John McCrae Statue-Guelph, Ontario |
I wonder if other countries are aware of and use that poem.
ReplyDeleteI read In Flanders Fields at his graveside in Wimmereux, Northern France ...
ReplyDeleteThat's a nice poppy photo you have there.
ReplyDeleteInteresting that McCrae originally wrote "grow". We had a line in The Gondoliers: "Where roses blow all winter while" and someone asked me what it meant. I said old English for "bloom" and later looked it up and found some quotes from Shakespeare, where the word is used in this sense. Now I wonder why the published version of this poem was edited, and by whom... I have only ever known it as "blow".
❤️
ReplyDeleteThe ceremony from Ottawa was quite moving. A few tears were shed here.
ReplyDeleteYes, we shall remember.
ReplyDeleteI always find myself so moved by the silence that we all observe on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.
ReplyDeleteI think as we get older we remember on many more days than that, we probably need to do better about making sure the next generation does as well.
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