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1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye

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's rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift up-lifting rush
of quiet birds in 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.

Comments:


Ms. Antimacassar
msantimacassar at 2011-11-30 18:18 (UTC) (Lien)
I love that poem. So haunting.
where hypotheses come to die
madman101 at 2011-12-01 00:56 (UTC) (Lien)
yes

i'm not sure, but it might be inscribed on the gravestone of one of my ancestors in Scotland or Ireland - which would be weird since wiki says that the UK didn't really know about it until 1993!

yes - it's a beautiful poem!
Ms. Antimacassar
msantimacassar at 2011-12-03 06:47 (UTC) (Lien)
What an interesting bit of family history! How did you discover it?
where hypotheses come to die
madman101 at 2011-12-03 10:19 (UTC) (Lien)
i was looking through old pics i found and there was a large gravestone with lengthy inscription, but illegible in the pic. on the back of the pic, this poem was written.
Ms. Antimacassar
msantimacassar at 2011-12-03 17:08 (UTC) (Lien)
Sounds like there is a fascinating story behind that photo!
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