Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand wind that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grau
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning is hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled fligh
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.