The poem that I chose to do is "In Flanders Fields" by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae:
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.
In Flanders Fields is about war, written from the battle field by a surgeon. He read it to a wounded man just after composing it and the man said that it described the situation perfectly. While I can't say that I can relate to this poem directly, I feel as though I can understand the position of the author and know what he is feeling. My father is a military man and he has gone away several times throughout my life to faraway places, to aid others. This includes recently in the middle east where he was gone for 8 months. While he is far away and in harm's way, I worry about him and pray that he will be safe. In addition to this, I have read a large number of books about war and combat from many different time periods, I feel that I have a good picture of the battle in my head, despite never engaging in it. The poem, while written about the war, can be applied to other things as well, it speaks of continuing a legacy or a "torch" and continuing the fight because the fallen people cannot. It touches on the delicacy of life, how you can be 'here one day and gone the next'. It also seems to tell of the dead watching the fight, and weeping for the loss of life that follows their own, perhaps this is why they "shall not sleep".
In Flanders Fields is a Lyrical poem, almost an elegy but not exactly. It has a rhyme scheme that is mostly AB, CD that is made up of end rhyme. Despite this, it still manages to convey it's message nicely. The author paints a picture of the scene around himself for us. Every day he sees men die, and he buries them in rows, with crosses on top. And the poppies that have grown on top of the graves since they have been built, are blowing in the wind. The larks are flying high above them, oblivious or apathetic to the grinding battle below them, while the rifle and artillery fire attempt to deafen the soldiers with every passing rapport. McCrae is distressed that so many men, who had hopes and dreams and families only hours or days before, now lie underground for eternity, soon to be joined by others. He conveys a request from the fallen men to those still fighting, to continue the fight and continue the cause that they gave their lives for. Closing by telling the men that they must keep fighting, to make sure that the deaths were not for naught.
I think this image is a great accompaniment to this poem. It shows a graveyard, filled with white crosses, and there are poppies growing all over the blood-red soil. All this beneath the larks, still flying high.
In Flanders Fields is a Lyrical poem, almost an elegy but not exactly. It has a rhyme scheme that is mostly AB, CD that is made up of end rhyme. Despite this, it still manages to convey it's message nicely. The author paints a picture of the scene around himself for us. Every day he sees men die, and he buries them in rows, with crosses on top. And the poppies that have grown on top of the graves since they have been built, are blowing in the wind. The larks are flying high above them, oblivious or apathetic to the grinding battle below them, while the rifle and artillery fire attempt to deafen the soldiers with every passing rapport. McCrae is distressed that so many men, who had hopes and dreams and families only hours or days before, now lie underground for eternity, soon to be joined by others. He conveys a request from the fallen men to those still fighting, to continue the fight and continue the cause that they gave their lives for. Closing by telling the men that they must keep fighting, to make sure that the deaths were not for naught.
I think this image is a great accompaniment to this poem. It shows a graveyard, filled with white crosses, and there are poppies growing all over the blood-red soil. All this beneath the larks, still flying high.