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Pooh-Bah
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Pooh-Bah
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I've been searching for the author of a poem, (using a corrupted line from it) and was just about to ask over here when I managed to google it.
It is such a poignant piece that I felt I'd like to share it with you, anyway. I guess many of you will know it, or know of it, because it is used quite a bit on memorials, but here it is anyway.
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 diamond glints on snow;
I am the sunlight 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.
(Author Unknown.
But found by parents of
Steve Cummins, soldier killed on
active service in Northern Ireland,
in an envelope left for them)
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veteran
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veteran
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Never heard it or of it. My loss. Very beautiful little poem.
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Posts: 11,613
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Good heavens, somebody made it into a song: http://cantusquercus.com/cq9611p1.htmI just found this version (I was interested, because I have seen this before; in fact it might even be here in AWAD somewhere.) I am not asserting that this is the "real" version, BTW.
DO NOT WEEP
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 diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's 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.
Mary E.Frye 1932 I found 3 more (I used Alltheweb search, to be different) that listed it anonymous or author unknown, and then I found this, that gives the rest of the words in the song (not much like, after all--only the first 2 lines) side by side with the poem credited to Mary Frye.
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Pooh-Bah
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Pooh-Bah
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Thank you, Jackie, for that - it solves the mystery.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Rhuby, here's a portion of a post of mine on this board from when one of our friends (mav) lost a friend a while back. It was the "Lend Me Your Words" thread: >Here's the most poignant poem for a funeral service I know...I discovered it recently at The Poetry Archives courtesy of an English gentleman named Chesil who maintains his own poetry archives (Chesil's Favourite Poetry). This moving poem first came to public attention after a copy was left in an envelope for his parents by Steven Cummins, a soldier killed on active service in Northern Ireland, to be opened in the event of his death. In the weeks that followed the first broadcast, some 30,000 copies were requested from the British Radio Programme: The Bookworm: do not stand at my grave and weep 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 diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight 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. --Anon. Some believe the poem has Native American roots, and it has been traced back to authorship there but never fully substantiated. Here's the other version: Native American Prayer I give you this one thought to keep -- I am with you still -- I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight 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 think of me as gone -- I am with you still -- in each new dawn.< I know there's some threads on the Poetry Archives http://emule.com boards that discuss the history of this poem, I'll see if I can search one up for you.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Rhuby, found this post on the eMule Poetry Archives:
>If it is information that is wanted about the poem, I can tell you this much. I first came across it a book called the Nation\'s Favorite Poems published by the BBC. ( ISBN 0 563 38782 3) This is what it had to say.
\"Outside the competition, the unexpected poetry success of the year from the Bookworm\'s point of view was an anonymouis work which featured in a piece on war poetry. \'Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep\' was left in an envelope for his parents by Steve Cummins, a soldier killed on active service in Northern Ireland, to be opned in the event of his death. It provoked an extraordinary response. The requests for copies started coming in almost immediately and over the following weeks the demand rose to a total of some thirty thousand. It was thought at first that the soldier himself had written it, but this was not the case. Claims were made for nineteenth centry magazines and the prayers of Navaho Indian priests, but in the end its origins remain a mystery. In some repsects it became the nations\'s favorite poem by proxy and, despite it being outside the competition , we have decided to include it here, in prime, first past the post, poll position.\" <
there's also some attribution to a Mary Frye in 1932, but her work would have to be an adaptation since the poem appeared much earlier. (be back with that in a minute)
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Carpal Tunnel
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from the Poetry Archives thread:
>Carried on the wind (Do not stand at my grave and weep )
From the moment that he learned that she was gone
He began to remember all the wonderful things they'd done
And the things that she wanted to be when she grew old
Ended before they started and he felt his heart grow cold
And then the wind began to blow and on it he heard her voice
Sweet as he remembered telling him he had a choice
He could either dwell on the past
Or he could choose to see her
Still alive in the world they'd had
The wind said: Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there,
I do not sleep
Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there,
I did not die
From the moment that he heard what the wind had said
That she was not alive because he had thought her dead
And if he remembered
And if he did his part
She would live forever
Forever within his heart
Because the wind said:
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 diamond glints on snow I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain
When you waken in the morning's hush I am the sweet uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight I am the soft star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there,
I did not die.
(attributed to Mary E. Frye - Baltimore, Maryland ,
circa 1932, she is credited in the 'Best of Bereavement' poetry collection )
- some words were added by Wilbur Skeels,
so that the poem could turn into a song .
...
the original version reads :
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 the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
..........................
Editors of Reader's Digest had scheduled an article
on Mrs. Frye for their February 2000 issue.<
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Carpal Tunnel
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And, Rhuby, here's a search page from the eMule Poetry Archives discussion boards with links to a series of discussions about this. Start with the earliest and work your way up (make sure to click "flat view" at the top of the thread for easier perusal). Have fun!  http://makeashorterlink.com/?A3CB45624
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Pooh-Bah
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Pooh-Bah
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Many thanks, Juan, for your hard work on this poem - it has truned out to be a fascinating study, hasn't it?
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Carpal Tunnel
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I composed an SATB a capella piece to this text several years ago, and used it with several different choirs. if you're interested in a copy, PM me your address, and I'll see if I can stick one in the mail. I should do a bit of editing before I send it, we made some adaptations last time I performed it, but let me know.
it's a great text whomever wrote it...
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