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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.
First published anonymously in Punch, December 8, 19151 Ives: "the poppies"
- by John McCrae (1872 - 1918), "In Flanders Fields" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), "In Flanders Fields", 2008 [medium voice or medium-high voice and piano] [ sung text checked 1 time]
- by Arthur Foote (1853 - 1937), "In Flanders Fields", op. 79 (Three Songs) no. 1 [voice and piano] [ sung text checked 1 time]
- by Charles Edward Ives (1874 - 1954), "In Flanders Fields", from Three Songs of the War, no. 1 [ sung text checked 1 time]
- by Michael Rickelton (b. 1983), "In Flanders Fields", 2006, from Battle Songs, no. 4 [ sung text checked 1 time]
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 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.
This text was added to the website: 2015-07-27
Line count: 16
Word count: 108