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2 4 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 Bead, Short days ago sunset glow, Loved and wgre loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. We lived, felt dawn, saw Take up qur quarrel with the foe: To you from failing. hands we throw The torch: be yours to hold it high. If ye break Pic with us who die We shall not sleep, tho poppies grow" In Flanders fields