Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I'm not there; I do not sleep.
I'm a thousands winds that blow;
I'm the diamond glints on the snow.
I'm the sunlight on ripened grain;
I'm the gentle Autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush
I'm the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I'm the soft star that shines at night;
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I'm not there, I did not die.