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31 août 2009

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

Do not stand at my grave and weep, 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...
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