Came across such a poem from
Giap's site, that I fall in love with.
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 sun 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 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.
by Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932
我已化作千缕微风
如钻石闪亮的白雪
催促谷粮成熟的阳光
也已化作温柔的秋雨
当你在谧谧清晨里苏醒
我是仓促中盘向高空
默然划出一道弧线的飞鸟
我是夜幕里守护的星烁