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07 January 2011

Do not stand at my grave and weep , by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left.
 
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Este una dintre zilele friguroase, cand tot ce iti doresti este sa stai la caldura in casa, cu o cana de ceai aburind langa si o muzica buna. In aceste momente am avut inspiratia de a hoinari pe plaiurile internetului si asa am descoperit aceasta poezie. De fapt era un articol despre autoare, Mary Elizabeth Frye, care a scris acest poem in 1932.
Mi-a placut mult cum este scris, cum a transpus sentimentele si gandurile despre viata si moarte in aceste versuri.
Optiunea de a comenta acest poem o las cititorilor, ideile mele fiind inca inchise in sertarul inconstientului.
Enjoy!

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