Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep, by Mary Frye

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

请不要在我坟前哭泣

我并不在那里 也没睡着了

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

请不要在我坟前哭泣

我并不在那里 也未曾死去