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. 

这个是一首诗啊是John McCrae写的
翻译如下：
佛兰德斯，罂粟盛开
亡灵间，一字排开，
铭记逝者领地；天空中
云雀高歌引吭，自由飞翔
与枪炮声同在，无处觅天籁。
灵魂随风而逝。
怀念破晓晨光，当生命犹在
爱与被爱
而今在佛兰德斯的大地，我们长眠。
继续战斗，永不懈怠；
薪火相传，此情不改；
后来者，请记取这坚持和忍耐!
谁人忘却这伤害
捐躯者永不瞑目
佛兰德斯，罂粟盛开。

写的不错咩~

这首小诗据说是某战争时期作者写的，后来在欧洲地区被谱成了民谣