Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I would be not there. I will not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
Of quiet birds circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry. I would not be there. I will not die.
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