Poppies growing in a field
This poem, written by John McCrae in May 1915, was one of the most famous poems of World War I. McCrae himself died in the war in 1918, and his poem is remembered every year when millions of people wear red poppies pinned to their jackets or hats to remember his death, and the deaths of millions of other soldiers, and to pledge themselves to peace.
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.
