On going to Google this morning in order to retrieve a suitable photo, the first “Google Question” thing in the little list they give was “Is Flanders Field a real place?” I didn’t have the spirit to click through for the answers.
Lest We Forget
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.
Always thought this was a 2 part poem, part one was poetry, part two was propaganda.
The two parts don’t mesh imho, but I’d love to hear differing views.
At least you remember it.
It was written as a warrior’s poem, not along the lines of Sassoon or Owen and their “pity of war” theme (which will always lend itself to a poet’s heart). It stands as-is. I have no issue.
Once you choose hope, anything’s possible
Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.
Otto, A timeless poem. Only you should have added the author’s name, John McCrae. He was a Canadian soldier and physician, who wrote this poem while serving in WWI in Belgium.