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.