by John McCrae (1872 - 1918)
Translation © by Guy Laffaille

In Flanders Fields
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE GER
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 amidst 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 falling 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]1 grow
In Flanders fields.

View original text (without footnotes)

First published anonymously in Punch, December 8, 1915

1 Ives: "the poppies"


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Dans les champs des Flandres", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Bertram Kottmann) , "Auf Flanderns Feld", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 15
Word count: 97

Dans les champs des Flandres
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
Dans les champs des Flandres les coquelicots poussent ;
Entre les croix, rang sur rang,
Qui marquent notre place ; et dans le ciel
Les alouettes en chantant encore bravement volent,
À peine audibles parmi les canons en bas.

Nous sommes les morts. Peu de jours avant
Nous vivions,
Aimions, étions aimés
Et maintenant nous gisons
Dans les champs des Flandres.

Occupez-vous de notre différend avec l'ennemi :
À vous d'une main qui retombe nous lançons
Le flambeau, à vous de le tenir haut.
Si vous manquez à votre parole envers nous qui mourons
Nous ne dormirons pas, bien que les coquelicots poussent
Dans les champs des Flandres.


  • Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.

Based on:


This text was added to the website: 2015-07-27
Line count: 16
Word count: 108