What's my love's kisses and embrace,
his loving eyes and kind wisdom,
or his kingly bliss promised to me,
Against a life unending, young as the spring
until the starlight dims? Elessar, Elessar,
With heart breaking I will cross the sea,
And I will shed tears of blood for thee
On thy day of passing. I will know it
In my heart even across the Sundering Seas,
And I will weep. But I will not sleep as
Miriel sleeps, leaving others in empty
grieving. And this love will pass;
this pain that bleeds my heart dry will pass.
A new sorrow will come with the twilight of Arda.
I know a life is always incomplete
but for a hope beyond the circles o
The Quimelindë, or the Song of the Lady
Heaving breathe this ancient chanter
But for once no pain I'll sing
Now I'll sing for ageless mem'ry
That kept me true since long-gone spring
Stop the songs of Age of Sorrows,
Sing once more of Elder Day
I will sing thee now my mem'ry
A vision of light, in shades of grey
I still recall in Spring of Arda
A lady fair who looked at me
And deep ingrained was ever since
A mem'ry of eyes, like bluest sea.
Eyes like shining, star-lit sapphires
Embraced by frame of deep black hair
Her gentle lips, the slightest smile
An aura pure: my lady fair
When west I trod in Aman fair,
And sang near high, eternal
(The fathers of Men meet Finrod Felagund)
The night swooped down on dark wings of cold dread
with nightmares circling the flames - the faint light
can't chase away the memories and fright
that lurk in mind and in lands that we fled.
Towards the sunset our journey led,
but within us we still carried the night
and to the past we don't turn our sight,
but don't dare to hope for future ahead.
Suddenly nightmare turned to pleasant dream
of distant land with shores from pure white sand
as waves of song carry us like clear stream
and strings of harp are touched by gentle hand.
And when dawn blushes with the first sunbeam
with hope in heart fac
For Love and Honour
A dark day of battle and death,
a warrior lone, and an enemy black,
facing each other with weapons of war,
knowing that neither of them would turn back.
A shield raised up on high to shine,
a tearstained face, hidden under a mask;
blackened the foe's heart in hatred and pride,
lifting a weapon of grim evil task.
Where is the fear, Eowyn, Eowyn?
Where is the fear, maid of Rohan?
Buried down deep, 'neath the pain and the grief,
buried beneath love and duty.
A laugh dark and fell amid screams,
a challenger fair, desperation did feel;
ghastly the voice of a foe beyond fear,
hissing his answer, did not make her reel:
"Thou
Imagination Unrivaled
~A tribute to the Master Storyteller~
~Tribute to J.R.R. Tolkien~
A mind of genius true, perhaps,
did course within a life so full,
and with a humble start so small,
a tale did grow and ever pulled
the heartstrings of so many folk
who read it once, and then again
as understanding made its way
into the souls of many, then
another tale, and longer, wound
its way into the mind and heart
of that dear dreamer, bolder still,
and so again such lore did start
to weave its birthing pangs along
the path where patience worked with will
to find and make the image grow,
and formed the shapes much larger still
and t
AA 2016: Utulie'n aure by StrawberryJam1313, literature
Literature
AA 2016: Utulie'n aure
Utúlie’n aurë.
A cold breeze cuts across frozen hills.
Cloaked beneath the trees,
Armed with metal teeth
His army waits,
Seething with silent fury.
Hundreds of thousands
Elves and Men
Long suffered, plagued by fear,
Of the Dark Power of the World.
But no longer.
They are arrayed
In splendid mail and sharpened swords,
Hidden in leaves,
Battle-ready.
Second force, his cousins’ might
That would catch Morgoth’s army
Between hammer and anvil
Between metal and flame
Leaving nought but death.
The day has come.
Black clouds billow across the plains
As though creatures of nightmares
Prepare for a feast.
Roars and shri