In honor of Veteran’s Day and Armistice Day, we’ll be sharing poetry from the great poets of WWI this week.
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In Flanders Fields
by John 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 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.
A Canadian classic. I can't remember if I actually tried to memorize this or it just happened by osmosis, but it's deeply engraved.
So beautiful. Unfortunately today's children study neither penmanship, literature, nor history. They only learn to recite the brainwashing mantras of the regime.