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Remember, no men are strange, no countries foreignbeneath all uniforms, a single body breathesLike ours: the land our brothers walk uponIs earth like this, in which we all shall lie.They, too, aware of sun and air and water,Are fed by peaceful harvests, by war’s long winter starv’d.Their hands are ours, and in their lines we readA labour not different from our own.Remember they have eyes like ours that wakeOr sleep, and strength that can be wonBy love. In every land is common lifeThat all can recognise and understand.Let us remember, whenever we are toldTo hate our brothers, it is ourselvesThat we shall dispossess, betray, condemn.Remember, we who take arms against each otherIt is the human earth that we defile.Our hells of fire and dust outrage the innocenceOf air that is everywhere our own,Remember, no men are foreign, and no countries strange.JAMES KIRKUPHave you ever thought of some people as strange, or other countries as ‘foreign’? We have many ways of thinking of other people as different from ‘us’, as ‘them.’ ‘They’ may belong to a different country, or speak a different language. In this poem, however, the poet reminds us of the many ways in which we are all the same — for we are all human.