15-03-09

Dood ben ik pas ...

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 diamonds 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 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 die.


(Phoebe Lauren )

20:56 Gepost door ivan in Gedicht | Permalink | Commentaren (0) | Tags: dood, sterven, rouwtekst, rouwgedicht |  Facebook |

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