On this Memorial Day, 2015, I'd like to share a poem from the WWI era. Short but with a strong message, In Flander's Fields has survived for a full century.The author was a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist and soldier who died near the end of WWI of pneumonia.
To visit the National WWI Museum in Kansas City, Missouri, vistors cross a glass bridge which spans a field of poppies below. A moving tribute, to be sure.
|
In
John McCrae, 1915. |
|
In
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 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. |
No comments:
Post a Comment