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.
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!
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
That, ofcourse, was the poem In Flander's Fields by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae of the Canadian Army Medical Corps. The story behind the poem tells us that Lt. McCrae composed it after the death of a close friend in Belgium while near a field of poppies, thus why the Poppy is used today as a symbol of remembering those brave men and women who
gave their lives in battle so that we may enjoy the
freedom that we live in today. I've always had a tremendous amount of
respect for our Veteran's, partially because of the several members of
my family who served in World War II, most notably my Grandfather,
Frederick Paul Mahannah. We were fortunate in that everyone in our
family came home, but the same cannot be said for so many others. So
these poppies, photographed in my Mom`s garden, are dedicated to all of
the war veterans out there. Do them all a favour and buy a Poppy
for all of the sacrifices that they made for us. I photographed these
poppies with my Macro lens, the details follow in the order they are
presented. f/4, 1/250sec, ISO 400 at 60mm. f/4, 1/60sec, ISO 400 at
60mm and finally, f/4, 1/200sec, ISO 400 at 60mm. These particular
poppies are Oriental Poppies and I really like the detail that the Macro
lens brings out in them.
Au champ d'honneur, les coquelicots
Sont parsemés de lot en lot
Auprès des croix; et dans l'espace
Les alouettes devenues lasses
Mêlent leurs chants au sifflement
Des obusiers.
Nous sommes morts
Nous qui songions la veille encore
À nos parents, à nos amis,
C'est nous qui reposons ici
Au champ d'honneur.
À vous jeunes désabusés
À vous de porter l'oriflamme
Et de garder au fond de l'âme
Le goût de vivre en liberté.
Acceptez le défi, sinon
Les coquelicots se faneront
Au champ d'honneur.
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