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 hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight,

I am the soft stars that shine at night,

I am the butterfly that flutters by,

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there,

I did not die.