Beskrivelse

The full version of 'In Flanders Fields' the poem goes:

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.

by John McCrae, May 1915

Lisensiering

Jeg, opphavsrettensholderen til dette verket, frigir dette verket til allmennheten. Dette gjelder på verdensbasis. I enkelte land kan dette være juridisk umulig. I så fall: Jeg gir hvem som helst retten til å bruke dette verket for ethvert formål, uten noen vilkår, med mindre slike vilkår kreves ved lov.