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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-03-19 | [This text should be read in english] | Submited by Bethany Lerie
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 glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you wake in the morning hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.
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