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Do not cry for me you ungrateful children
Do not stand on my grave and weep
My adult children: you see
I was alive for 92 years,
You never came to visit or act like you care
I was there, I never move away
I were the one who put food on the table
Cloth you, during the rough days
I shield you from the harsh reality in this world
The world in which I must now leave
Loneliness, heartbreak and man-made diseases
While the wet snow creep in my old brown boot
I count all seven of you.
As you sip your bowls of soups
I was there, I never made a move.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
For thirty years my offspring avoid me
An evening of Psalm and Hymns
Would never make amends;
it’s thee end of my journey
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
Go shelter from the rain.
let the cloud weep for me
while the rivers and ravens shown solidarity.
Do horses mind the rain/storms?
Do not stand at my grave and weep
The fog surround my grave like a white woven drape
No more prays, no more tears.
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