Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
John Richter (2014 10 15 09.12) my absolute absolute favorite poem ever. for years. And it is the only poem of Mary, on the back of a napkin. Never published, and distributed copies to friends. For those who don't know, a refugee European Jewish Fund Maria at the beginning of the rise of Hitler. His word has not recovered from a friend who was his mother's death, and she was able to see in Europe, travel by fear. But she was devastated for everything, absolutely. Marie wrote this poem to support their friends of terrible grief. It is absolutely perfect. (Talk) Reply by Charlie Hamer (19 10 do not stand at my grave and weep northern ireland 12 2014.24) this is also mine, made me cry the first time I read it. There are, not to sleep. I am a 1 mile wind, bubbles. I am the Diamond's brilliance in the snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you wake up in the morning in silence, swift RushOf quiet birds in flight lifting hang out. I am the glow of the stars in the night. I can't take my grave and wines. There are, not to sleep. Do not sit on my grave and wines. There are, I'm not dead! It was my great poem of the funeral of Nanna. It is a poem that is difficult to classify, it is heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. I am only 14-29 days before my dad more than the form of cancer that was new. This poem took my dream and I felt very well, thank you very much. . . . . .