irsavc-

احبچ توأميي

I miss you 

(December 8, 1915)
            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.

هَلْ عِشْتُ حَقًّا؟ يَكَادُ الشَّكُّ يَغْلِبُنِي
            أَمْ كَانَ مَا عِشْتُهُ أَضْغَاثَ أَحْلَامِ

مختفي

❣️

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