In Flanders fields now we stand,
Mourning on this blood-washed land,
Your tombstones solemn, while in the night
A nightingale wails, though the sound be dulled
By our sullen plight.
We are the Living. In the days ahead
We shall spend sleepless nights in a cold bed,
Feel pain and see pain, and yet
We’ll struggle ever onward.
For we saw the valiant stand in which you fell;
We shall take the torch, and we shall hold it well.
You may rest now in peace, for thy cause will not die.
Our faith will endure, though your bodies lie
In Flanders fields.
This poem is inspired by John McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields”
