Iraqi Fields

"In Flanders Fields" was written by John McCrae as one of the great First World War poems. Only two of the three verses are reproduced here, and I recommend reading the whole poem.
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.

Iraqi Fields

But now the common folk forego
their honour, and, with fear, bestow
command upon the battle-shy:
hoping security to buy
with no risk to themselves of woe.
And so brave soldiers, heartsick, go
to foreign lands to fight a foe
and smite civilians hip and thigh
for the oil fields.

And voters watch the TV show
the deaths uncounted, fast and slow;
and faith is broken as we ply
this unjust war, and children die:
but we shall reap what we now sow
in the oil fields.

©Alexa Duir 2004

⇐ Back to all Songs