This poetry was part of an anthology paper about Chinese funeral. Even the writer of the report did not know who wrote this beautiful poem.
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
