Aby-a-Day – November 11: In Flander’s Field (Hipstamatic Monday)

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

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Between the crosses, row on row,

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That mark our place; and in the sky

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The larks, still bravely singing, fly

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Scarce heard amid the guns below.

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We are the Dead. Short days ago

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We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

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Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

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Take up our quarrel with the foe:

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To you from failing hands we throw

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The torch; be yours to hold it high.

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If ye break faith with us who die

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We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae, 1915