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 ripened1 grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken2 in the morning's hush3

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.