Lest We Forget

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
between the crosses row on row,
that marks our place; and in the sky
that lark, still bravely singing, fly
scarce heard amid the guns below


we are the dead.  short days ago
we lived, felt dawn, saw the 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




i do not own the poem, the poem belongs to the original creator