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
Corrected version: (in line with the truth of scripture)
You can stand at my grave if you wish to weep, I am not there, I am completely asleep.
I am not the diamond glints on snow, for if I was I would not know,
I am not the sun on ripened grain, I am not the gentle autumn rain
I am not the swift uplifting flight, of quiet birds encircling tight,
I am not the soft star shining bright, for I cannot be seen day or night
I am a thousand particles of dust, in a coffin of rotting wood and rust,
I am asleep in slumber deep, awaiting the Lord my reward to reap
I am in a senseless state, awaiting the trumpet to herald my fate
No praise can silenced lips unfold, until the day His gaze I hold
So when awakened in the morning’s hush, to my graveside do not rush
Do not stand at my tomb and cry, I am not there, I surely did die