| 11 van die 11 de om 11:00 [boodskap #68359] |
Sa, 09 November 2002 06:21  |
®Tobie©
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Arthur vertel my waar kom die Hollandse tradisie om 'n
'prins' te kies op die 11 van die 11 om 11:00 vandaan.
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| Re: 11 van die 11 de om 11:00 [boodskap #68375 is 'n antwoord op boodskap #68359] |
Sa, 09 November 2002 12:41  |
W
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"Tobie"
Arthur vertel my waar kom die Hollandse tradisie om 'n
'prins' te kies op die 11 van die 11 om 11:00 vandaan.
Wouter
Hier is iets heel anders oor die 11de van die 11de om 11, Tobie.
Van 'n ander groep, in Engels:
An entire era ago, when traders used to do battle
for their clients on the "Floor" of the Stock
Exchange, which was unceremoniously cast aside by
the advent of "online" trading, A dear Gentleman by
the name of Harry Lane (often times he could be very
un-dear) used to, for a few weeks leading up to 11
November, sell poppies at 50c a pop (weak pun).
I recall as well my school years also remembering the
importance of this day. But, as with many traditions
and time, the poppy day theme seems to have fallen
away. So, if over the weekend you come across
someone peddling poppies for a few of your loose
coins, take the time to stop and remember the fallen
of the Great War!
The tradition of "Remembrance" day is that on
the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month
people, across the globe, stop and observe a
moments silence for those that perished (from all
sides)on the fields of Flanders and died in a war
that was both brutal and long! The day has since
also come to be a show of support for all war
veteran from all wars that return home and need
support.
Flanders field, where much of the fighting took
place in the Great war 1914 - 1918 and where by far
the most soldiers died, used to flower with a show
of such beauty in the spring that it almost made a
mockery of the tragedy that surrounded all the men.
The flower, a Poppy, has as a result become a symbol
of this tragedy and was first inspired by this famous
poem by John McCrea.
IN FLANDERS FIELDS
by Lt. Col. John McCrae, M.D. (1872-1918)
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.
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