In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
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.
Brad • 1 year ago
Wow you really dug through the archive for this one. I like the fact that the date give it’s sentiments a true genuine feel. Those reading it back then must have felt proud. For me though I think our generation doesn’t fully connect with the meaning of the poem. We are a halfhearted generation when it pertains to things outside of our own individual circles. Hemingway starts a novel with “we are a lost generation”. Where as I feel as though we are a faceless generation using a digital veil that allows people to reveal there potential selfishness. Perhaps it’s just me. I know I’m losing faith in the world or maybe I’m just a product of my generation (displacing the blame is easy to do with a mask on). I like the poem, just wish I could connect with it on a more worldly level. All I have is all I have and the people I care about. There are no graves stirring through faults of mine. I can only assume Abe Lincoln doesn’t like my jokes, but I don’t give a damn. In summation good poem!
Mike • 1 year ago
This was during the first great war, when it became evident that it would be long, bloody, and unlike any war fought before. The civil and crimean wars were only hints of what would happen here. If you read about the battle fought at Flanders, it was one of the bloodiest and deadliest of the war.
I don’t think there is pride here, but great despair. These soldiers don’t want to have sacrificed their lives for those who survived to squander whatever their deaths may have meant–if anything.
We went over there, but in the end, it was not glory that was gained, but the realities of the mechanization of war.
That struck me particularly hard, simply because we are not often touched by this sort of collective tragedy; we are so far removed from the 19th century notion of the glory of war and what this even meant to the world is tough for us to wrap our minds around. Save for the atom bomb, nothing changed the world as much as this war.
Our generation is lost and faceless. Not by any fault of our own, but by the circumstances of history, and we’ve been given a vehicle to feed the hedonism of our own decay. Hell, it’s why we get to post here now.
Brad • 1 year ago
There is no glory in a nation full of self improvement and individual agendas. Its hard sometimes to imagine a collective anything when it pertains to the world.
Mike • 1 year ago
Hence, we have no hope.