Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sun on ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
| Note from Joe: The above might not be the original version, although it is the version most commonly found. For a reliable discussion of the differences between the above version and a longer version which might be the original, as well as published references to both, click here. |