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 softly falling snow.

I am the gentle show'rs of rain.
	(Lacrymosa)
I am the fields of ripening grain.
	(dies illa)
I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush
	(Lacrymosa)
of faroff birds in circling flight.
	(dies illa)
I am the starshine of the night.

	Lacrymosa dies illa,
	Lacrymosa dies illa.

I am in ev'ry flower that blooms.
I am in still and empty rooms.
I am the child that yearns to sing;
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there.
	(Lacrymo-)
I did not die.
	(-sa)


Clare Harner / Howard Goodall