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.
John McCrae, 1915
Click on the author's name, above, for information about the writing of this poem.
Here is a photo from the Second Battle of Ypres, at around the time when the poem was written.
The poppies are a grave and lovely image. We must not forget what they cover...the memories that the land holds of mud, death, destruction, the end of thousands of young lives. Millions, billions if we count all the wars and political torture and destruction in the world's history.
I commend to you, then, the effort of The Peace Alliance to create a U.S. Department of Peace. Join us!
