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   Chantal 
   Tuesday, 11. November 2008

   IN FLANDERS FIELDS

   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

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