Do not stand at my grave and weep

 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 glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Written by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Reacties

Populaire posts van deze blog

Open brief aan mijn oudste dochter...

Kraai

Vraag me niet hoe ik altijd lach

Gone with the Wind (1939)

Ekster