Walke on by, o'crowde - do not see me
should ye try to - I won't see you

My tears gaze the way of the Foreste
And waite.

I move - not, even though I tried, it is
Aye am grounded to what's sad, and true
You - Ye are the light on the leaves,
Me - Aye am the shadow of a statue.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Miraman, in the year 358 AF.