Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I won't be there, I will not sleep.
Where will you find me, what will you do?
You'll carry me always; my heart is in you.
For I am a thousand boys who run,
I am in children, every one.
I am the wind at a sprinter's back,
I'm there by the court, and across the track.
As you step to the line to do your best,
I'll be the pounding in your chest.
I'll be the spirit that drives you on
When the field is dark and the crowds are gone.
Like the coming of Spring or the dawn of day
You can count on me; I'll always stay
At the finish line. And when your race is through
You won't be alone, for I'll be there too.
I am your brother, your husband, your friend,
Your father, your coach. I'm there to the end.
No, do not stand at my grave and cry.
I won't be there, I did not die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice farewell poem. I very much enjoyed every verse. Comforting piece.