Tn 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 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.


REST ye in peace, ye Flanders dead.
 The fight that ye so bravely led We've taken up. And we will keep True faith with you who lie asleep With each a cross to mark his bed, And poppies blowing overhead, Where once his own life blood ran red. So let your rest be sweet and deep
Fear not that ye have died for naught. The torch ye threw to us we caught. Ten million hands will hold it high, And Freedom's light shall never die! We've learned the lesson that ye taught In Flanders fields.
In Flanders fields.