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Posted

They Grow not old

As we that are left grow old

Age shall not weary them

Nor the years condem

At the Going down of the sun

And in the morning

We will remember them

Amen

Posted

There is a corner of a foreign field that is forever England

Posted

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.

Lest we forget.

Posted

Im my Avavtar you seen my little son , 4,5 years old , listening to his dad telling about the

soldiers who came from that direction to free Europe.

I hope that he will remember this story and will be thankful for those who gave there life's

to free us.

Carpe Diem

Cats

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