 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 your 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. Dr John McCrae, 1914/1915  |
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