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Do not stand at my grave and beeep

I am not there

I do not sleep

I aim a thousand wds that blow

I aim the diamond gans on snow

I aim the sunlight or ripe and green

I aim the gentle audmmarine

When you're weaken in the morning's hush my yimness wiwived uplifting rush of quite a birds and circle to flight

I yam the soft stars that a shine anannoyed

Do not stand at d my grave and cry ry

I am not there

I do not die