My care is like my shadow,
Laid bare beneath the sun,
It follows me at all times,
And flies when I pursue it,
I freeze and yet am always burned,
Since from myself I turn,
I love and yet am forced to hate,
I seem stark mute,
Inside I prate.

My care is like my shadow,
Laid bare beneath the sun,
It follows me at all times,
And flies when I pursue it.

I love and yet am forced to hate,
I seem stark mute ,
Inside I prate,
Some gentler love doth ease itself
Into my heart and mind,
For I am soft and made of snow,
Love be more [bad word] or so be kind.

(Based on a poem «ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE» by Elizabeth I, Queen of England)