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saleseda, sedo, sja

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.

Om celedeum uv Vlānders kuotekalum hweseno Oor ksanrejrum, amringweum onyd amringweum Tag adhitheno ērn bawat; vyn om ehelos Larkum, etragnio vurelaio emtharono, lufduno Rīmegaio opulensmot ei bandveleum taot Ēr tano Opeletrālaerum. Eftia amsserum ain Ēr opelenomot, gelemenomot oedre, onsorenomot maene ānet Mosērenomot vyn emmosērenomot, vyn et ēr fellins Om celedeum uv Vlānders. Ērn īman heghā ērn ahrash: Ēr samano jyn sek Ouil; tans sek ternen okaio Vo se raktens dāive heghā ērak Ēr sethensvē cymo, avair kuotekalum venedon Om celedeum uv Vlānders.

Merry Christmas!

Formal: Maasa Krist-Opeletlastamsser, Informal: Maasa Krilast