就是虞美人盛开。
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.
在佛兰德战场上 罂粟花盛开
十字架之间,一排接一排
标示着我们断魂之地
但云雀依旧高歌,翱翔在蔚蓝的天上
可却难以听见,因为战场上枪炮正响