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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.
John McCrae
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Tuesday, December 31, 2002 |
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Read poems about / on: sunset, faith, sleep, sky
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Comments about this poem (In Flanders Fields
by
John McCrae
) |
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Sylva Portoian (3/9/2010 5:13:00 AM)
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Flanders’ Poppies and Armenian Genocide
People remember their wars,
Never feel with others.
Armenian Genocide was not a war
But a real raping slaying with scimitars.
Not recognized, yet by the English race
Only by Welsh and Scots.
So tell me was the Flanders poem
True or False!
If you’re English,
Don't protect your Englishness,
But the fairness!
Scars can’t be forgotten
Remains scars transmitted as genes
From ancestry to ancestries
Accumulates to be seen
As arid bones on hills
They are like sands,
Flouting flairing to be seen
Can't sink yet
Even after decades of rains,
Not covered by poppoies.
Who can cover so many uncanned graves.
Need millions of years.
It describes Armenian skeletons’ hillside
In the Syrian desert-Der Zor-
After nearly a century
Remains… Lightening phosphorus.
If you like to feel like a real human
You can see all in the Internet.
Open Armenian Genocide
DerZor-DerZor -Der Zor
Thanks
Sylva-MD-Poetry
March 9,2010
My mother Victoria Mihran Dabbaghian
Was only four years during genocide,
Her father went to work and never seen back.
She died this month March in 2002.
Till the date of her final sigh
She was remembering... Genocide!
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Julie Miner (11/1/2007 4:33:00 PM)
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I agree with the previous comments. Having gone to Vimy for the rededication at 15 I was moved. My highschool band played on site the day of and we were in the Freedom of the Cities Parade the day before. We were thanked for being born Canadian. The people over there remember what Canadians did, the sacrifices. To see the thousands of men and boys in the war cemetaries was an emotional title wave. To sing a version of this poem in them was even more so. the question of Why are we still doing it hasn't left my mind still.
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Kenneth Pope (3/8/2007 8:29:00 AM)
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How tragic that man has not learned to put wars aside. I served in the last 2 years of WWII and we have Korea, Viet Nam, Gulf Storm and Iraq. Are we so helpless that we can not learn from our mistakes and listen once again to the voices of those in Flanders Field, Pearl Harbor, Chosen, Vietnam, and more recently, our efforts, be they that, in Iraq under misguided leadership.
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Frank Connolly (3/8/2005 9:44:00 AM)
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I read 'In Flanders Fields' at school in English Literature. WWII had only just finished, food was still rationed, bomb damaged buildings were still un-repaired and nearly sixty years leter, I can still remember picking coal on the local mine spoil heap during the bitterly cold winter of 1946-47 because there was no coal allocation for houses.
John McCrea's poem struck chords with us, boys, who had just lived through six years of war and we all knew people who served in the Forces - death of young men was no stranger, then.
'In Flanders Fields' is the Poem Hunter's 'Poem of the Day' for March 8th
Can the servicemen killed in Iraq hand on an honourable torch in a debacle where predoninantly it is civilians who are being killed?
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