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's glint on the snow.
I am the gentle autumn's rain,
When you awaken in the mornings hush.
I am the swift uprising rush of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.