IN FLANDERS FIELDS
LIEUT. COL. JOHN D. McCRAE
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 amidst 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