The full version of 'In Flanders Fields' the poem goes:

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.

by John McCrae, May 1915

我，本作品著作权人，释出本作品至公有领域。这适用于全世界。 在一些国家这可能不合法；如果是这样的话，那么： 我无条件地授予任何人以任何目的使用本作品的权利，除非这些条件是法律规定所必需的。