I am not there

Vi o verso abaixo num comentário sobre a morte da avó de Barack Obama, a apenas um dia das eleições americanas.

É o tipo de verso que gostaria de poder recitar no dia da minha morte, aos que ficam.

* * *

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 and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
                        ~ Mary Frye