lundi 2 mars 2009

I am not there

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 the snow,
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in cercled flight.
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die.

Un an déjà.
Brigitte me manque.

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