The In Flanders Fields poem

 In Flanders Fields

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 you break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields

By Major John McCrae – 1915 - Boezinge

 

In Flanders Fields' is a poem written by the Canadian army physician and poet John McCrae.

He wrote it in early May 1915 in his medical aid station near Essex farm, 2 km to the north of the centre of Ypres.

The poem was published on 8 December 1915.

John McCrae died on 28 January 1918, while in charge of the Canadian General Hospital in Boulogne. He is buried in Wimereux cemetery (Pas-de-Calais, F)

The In Flanders Fields poem