Rememberance Day
Lest We ForgetIn Flanders Fields
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.
For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
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6 comments:
Bit of a wierd one this ...
David "Wash My Hands Of Shambo" Milliband doesn't do poppy wreaths.
http://blogs.fco.gov.uk/blogs/david_miliband/archive/2007/11/12/14525.aspx
He says it's "traditional" for the FCO to place a wreath made not from poppies but from ferns and live flowers "from the 12 overseas territories"
Well, In suppose at one level I can see his point. The poppy was chosen for its rampant flourishing in the newly disturbed earth turned over in the carnage of what was supposed to be the war to end all wars. So I suppose where war has done the same far beyond these shores it is to be expected that other flowers bloom.
But would anyone care to tell me if this really has been going on for a while or is this a (new) labour attempt to distance itself from the red poppy. ?
Did anyone notice how out of place and shamefaced Mc Brooon looked at the Royal Albert Hall last night. And how disgraceful that even the SNP and gay Libers were represented at the cenotaph today, but the our countries most patriotic party not allowed to?. A couple of shots panned onto the Queens face, and she looked deep in retrospective thought, I wonder what she was really thinking?
Look on with fear you enemies of Albion, and know that we cannot be stopped.
We are awakened to the truth of what of what has been done to us, and retribution is coming!
My local Rememberance day was a disgrace thanks to the labour Mayor whose distinct lack of genuiness and feeeling in his reading of certain extracts of well known war poems.
He couldnt wait for it all to be over.
But the war seems to have just begun.
Celtic Morning. JoG, yes, the Foreign Secretary's wreath has, as far back as my memory goes, been made from exotic Commonwealth flowers. But Millipede still looked out of place at the Cenotaph, like a little boy lost. No doubt his thoughts were elsewhere and his traitors heart could not have been in it. I am not a royalist but preferred to see them there, dressed up in their uniforms, rather than the collection of hypocrites and non patriots gathered purely to boost their images. Brown, I thought, looked suitably statesmanlike, the saviour of our nation, which is the new image we are all supposed to accept. How much further from the truth can the opinion makers stray? Square jawed and suitably solemn, he no doubt revelled in his chance to cast himself in his new role and many will, unfortunately accept it in this age when image is placed above truth and real substance. Meanwhile the cameras hardly dwelled on Margaret Thatcher, frail and sombre who, whatever her many faults, showed herself to be patriotic regarding the Faulklands even though she failed to resolutely defend her country against the threat from the European Union and mass immigration. And Dimbleby told us that Tony Bliar couldnt be there because he was engaged in the middle east. No doubt busily adding more millions to his fortune and kissing Saudi arses. Whatever, at least we were spared the presence of this mega hypocrite whose attendance would have been an affront to all the brave men and women who have died in his illegal conflicts, paying the price for his grand plan of ingratiating himself with the Americans so that he could join the ranks of the super rich after he had finished ruining his country during his disastrous period in office. The cenotaph ceremony is bigger than those politicians who use it for their own ends. It belongs to the millions of true British patriots who will one day take back control from the maggots who presently manipulate its fortunes. The BNP should certainly be represented and one day,soon,it will be. No doubt Phillips and his racists will soon complain that the whole thing is "hideously White" and will try to convince us that it ought not to be allowed!!
Dirty old Labour, the party of the people NOT, unless you want to be spied upon, lied to, bullied and accused of undermining democracy if you look up from the footie results and take an interest in whats being done to your country (if you are a taxpaying cash cow and one of the minnions).
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