¡Hola a todos! Bienvenidos un día más a mi blog. Hoy os traigo un vídeo en el que os cuento la historia que hay detrás de todas y cada una de las amapolas que estamos viendo este mes por toda Escocia, y qué se va a “celebrar” en el día del veterano de guerra. Así que aquí os dejo el vídeo y no olvidéis suscribiros al canal y compartirlo con vuestros amigos 🙂
Hello everyone and welcome back to my blog! Today I’m going to tell you the story behind all the poppies that we can see these days in Scotland and what we’re going to celebrate on Remembrace Day. Don’t forget to subscribe and share 🙂
Today we remember the sacrifices of the members of the armed forces and also of the civilians in times of war.
It is celebrated every 11th of November, the day when the WWI was finally over.
The symbol of the poppy has its origins in a poem by lieutenant colonel John McRae, a Canadian expeditionary in Flanders. Very affected by the death of his best friend after the battle of Ypres, he noticed how poppies grew amongst the graves of the fallen soldiers and wrote a poem that was first published on the Punch of the 8th of December, 1915. But a couple of years after, a worker of the American YMCA came across it and, touched by the feeling, started a campaign in order to have the poppy as a symbol of remembrance.
Succeeding in 1920, the appeal aimed to raise funds for the soldiers and their families, and such appeal was introduced in the U.K. in 1921.
Nowadays, every year we see those poppies which still represent all those sacrifices. We celebrate by keeping two minutes of silence and with parades in every city.
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.