Helgdag. Idag hedrar Kanada minnet av de som stupat i krig och på fredsuppdrag. Klockan 11 hålls två tysta minuter för det eld upphör som blåstes den 11:e timmen den 11:e dagen i den 11:e månaden på västrfronten 1918. På landets rockuppslag sitter en röd vallmo-knapp och i själen genljuder In Flanders Fields, den berömda dikt den kanadensiske läkaren John McCrae skrev i en skyttegrav i maj 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.
Harry Martinsson-sällskapet skriver också om vallmo och På Flanderns fält idag. W00t.
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.
Harry Martinsson-sällskapet skriver också om vallmo och På Flanderns fält idag. W00t.
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