Ypres - In Flanders' Fields

Ég var búin að setja inn langa færslu um ferðina til Ypres og fullt af myndum en blessaður bloggerinn neitaði að setja þetta inn. Ferðasagan kemur því síðar, ljóðið In Flanders' Fields og ein mynd verða að duga í bili. Myndin er úr þýska kirkjugarðinum Langemark.

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 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.