Alalminórë
- O ancient city on a leaguered hill!
- Old shadows linger in your broken gate,
- Your stones are grey, your old halls now are still,
- Your towers silent in the mist await
- Their crumbling end, while through the storeyed elms
- The River Gliding leaves these inland realms
- And slips between long meadows to the Sea,
- Still bearing down by weir and murmuring fall
- One day and then another to the Sea;
- And slowly thither many days have gone
+ O ancient city on a leaguered hill!
+ Old shadows linger in your broken gate,
+ Your stones are grey, your old halls now are still,
+ Your towers silent in the mist await
+ Their crumbling end, while through the storeyed elms
+ The River Gliding leaves these inland realms
+ And slips between long meadows to the Sea,
+ Still bearing down by weir and murmuring fall
+ One day and then another to the Sea;
+ And slowly thither many days have gone
Since first the Edain built Kortirion.
- Kortirion! Upon your island hill
- With winding streets, and alleys shadow-walled
- Where even now the peacocks pace in drill
- Majestic, sapphirine and emerald,
- Once long ago amid this sleeping land
- Of silver rain, where still year-laden stand
- In unforgetful earth the rooted trees
- That cast long shadows in the bygone noon,
- And whispered in the swiftly passing breeze,
- Once long ago, Queen of the Land of Elms,
+ Kortirion! Upon your island hill
+ With winding streets, and alleys shadow-walled
+ Where even now the peacocks pace in drill
+ Majestic, sapphirine and emerald,
+ Once long ago amid this sleeping land
+ Of silver rain, where still year-laden stand
+ In unforgetful earth the rooted trees
+ That cast long shadows in the bygone noon,
+ And whispered in the swiftly passing breeze,
+ Once long ago, Queen of the Land of Elms,
High City were you of the Inland Realms.
- Your trees in summer you remember still:
- The willow by the spring, the beech on hill;
- The rainy poplars, and the frowning yews
- Within your aged courts that muse
- In sombre splendour all the day,
- Until the firstling star comes glimmering,
- And flittermice go by on silent wing;
- Until the white moon slowly climbing sees
- In shadow-fields the sleep-enchanted trees
- Night-mantled all in silver-grey.
- Alalminor! Here was your citadel,
- Ere bannered summer from his fortress fell;
- About you stood arrayed your host of elms:
- Green was their armour, tall and green their helms,
- High lords and captains of the trees.
- But summer wanes. Behold, Kortirion!
- The elms their full sail now have crowded on
- Ready to the winds, like masts amid the vale
- Of mighty ships too soon, too soon, to sail
+ Your trees in summer you remember still:
+ The willow by the spring, the beech on hill;
+ The rainy poplars, and the frowning yews
+ Within your aged courts that muse
+ In sombre splendour all the day,
+ Until the firstling star comes glimmering,
+ And flittermice go by on silent wing;
+ Until the white moon slowly climbing sees
+ In shadow-fields the sleep-enchanted trees
+ Night-mantled all in silver-grey.
+ Alalminor! Here was your citadel,
+ Ere bannered summer from his fortress fell;
+ About you stood arrayed your host of elms:
+ Green was their armour, tall and green their helms,
+ High lords and captains of the trees.
+ But summer wanes. Behold, Kortirion!
+ The elms their full sail now have crowded on
+ Ready to the winds, like masts amid the vale
+ Of mighty ships too soon, too soon, to sail
To other days beyond these sunlit seas.
Narquelion
- Alalminórë! Green heart of this Isle
- Where linger yet the Faithful Companies!
- Still undespairing here they slowly file
- Down lonely paths with solemn harmonies:
- The Fair, the first-born in an elder day,
- Immortal Elves, who singing on their way
- Of bliss of old and grief, though men forget,
- Pass like a wind among the rustling trees,
- A wave of bowing grass, and men forget
- Their voices calling from a time we do not know,
+ Alalminórë! Green heart of this Isle
+ Where linger yet the Faithful Companies!
+ Still undespairing here they slowly file
+ Down lonely paths with solemn harmonies:
+ The Fair, the first-born in an elder day,
+ Immortal Elves, who singing on their way
+ Of bliss of old and grief, though men forget,
+ Pass like a wind among the rustling trees,
+ A wave of bowing grass, and men forget
+ Their voices calling from a time we do not know,
Their gleaming hair like sunlight long ago.
- A wind in the grass! The turning of the year.
- A shiver in the reeds beside the stream,
- A whisper in the trees – afar they hear,
- Piercing the heart of summer’s tangled dream,
- Chill music that a herald piper plays
- Foreseeing winter and the leafless days.
- The late flowers trembling on the ruined walls
- Already stoop to hear that elven-flute.
- Through the wood’s sunny aisles and tree-propped halls
- Winding amid the green with clear cold note
+ A wind in the grass! The turning of the year.
+ A shiver in the reeds beside the stream,
+ A whisper in the trees – afar they hear,
+ Piercing the heart of summer’s tangled dream,
+ Chill music that a herald piper plays
+ Foreseeing winter and the leafless days.
+ The late flowers trembling on the ruined walls
+ Already stoop to hear that elven-flute.
+ Through the wood’s sunny aisles and tree-propped halls
+ Winding amid the green with clear cold note
Like a thin strand of silver glass remote.
- The high-tide ebbs, the year will soon be spent;
- And all your trees, Kortirion, lament.
- At morn the whetstone rang upon the blade,
- At eve the grass and golden flowers were laid
- To wither, and the meadows bare.
- Now dimmed already comes the tardier dawn,
- Paler the sunlight fingers creep across the lawn.
- The days are passing. Gone like moths the nights
- When white wings fluttering danced like satellites
- Round tapers in the windless air.
- Lammas is gone. The Harvest-moon has waned.
- Summer is dying that so briefly reigned.
- Now the proud elms at last begin to quail,
- Their leaves uncounted tremble and grow pale,
- Seeing afar the icy spears
- Of winter march to battle with the sun.
- When bright All-Hallows fades, their day is done,
- And borne on wings of amber wan they fly
- In heedless winds beneath the sullen sky,
+ The high-tide ebbs, the year will soon be spent;
+ And all your trees, Kortirion, lament.
+ At morn the whetstone rang upon the blade,
+ At eve the grass and golden flowers were laid
+ To wither, and the meadows bare.
+ Now dimmed already comes the tardier dawn,
+ Paler the sunlight fingers creep across the lawn.
+ The days are passing. Gone like moths the nights
+ When white wings fluttering danced like satellites
+ Round tapers in the windless air.
+ Lammas is gone. The Harvest-moon has waned.
+ Summer is dying that so briefly reigned.
+ Now the proud elms at last begin to quail,
+ Their leaves uncounted tremble and grow pale,
+ Seeing afar the icy spears
+ Of winter march to battle with the sun.
+ When bright All-Hallows fades, their day is done,
+ And borne on wings of amber wan they fly
+ In heedless winds beneath the sullen sky,
And fall like dying birds among the meres.
Hrívion
- Alas! Kortirion, Queen of Elms, alas!
- This season best befits your ancient town
- With echoing voices sad that slowly pass,
- Winding with waning music faintly down
- The paths of standing mist. O fading time,
- When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
- And early shadows veil the distant woods!
- Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
- They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
- Of grey, their dusk-blue mantles gird with bands
+ Alas! Kortirion, Queen of Elms, alas!
+ This season best befits your ancient town
+ With echoing voices sad that slowly pass,
+ Winding with waning music faintly down
+ The paths of standing mist. O fading time,
+ When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
+ And early shadows veil the distant woods!
+ Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
+ They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
+ Of grey, their dusk-blue mantles gird with bands
Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands.
- At night they dance beneath the roofless sky,
- When naked elms entwine in branching lace
- The Seven Stars, and through the boughs the eye
- Stares down cold-gleaming in the high moon’s face.
- O Elder Kindred, fair immortal folk!
- You sing now ancient songs that once awoke
- Under primeval stars before the Dawn;
- You dance like shimmering shadows in the wind,
- As once you danced upon the shining lawn
- Of Elvenhome, before we were, before
+ At night they dance beneath the roofless sky,
+ When naked elms entwine in branching lace
+ The Seven Stars, and through the boughs the eye
+ Stares down cold-gleaming in the high moon’s face.
+ O Elder Kindred, fair immortal folk!
+ You sing now ancient songs that once awoke
+ Under primeval stars before the Dawn;
+ You dance like shimmering shadows in the wind,
+ As once you danced upon the shining lawn
+ Of Elvenhome, before we were, before
You crossed wide seas unto the mortal shore.
- Now are your trees, old grey Kortirion,
- Through pallid mists seen rising tall and wan,
- Like vessels vague that slowly drift afar
- Out, out to empty seas beyond the bar
- Of cloudy ports forlorn;
- Leaving behind for ever havens loud,
- Wherein their crews a while held feasting proud
- In lordly ease, they now like windy ghosts
- Are wafted by cold airs to friendless coasts,
- And silent down the tide are borne.
- Bare has your realm become, Kortirion,
- Stripped of its raiment, and its splendour gone.
- Like lighted tapers in a darkened fane
- The funeral candles of the Silver Wain
- Now flare above the fallen year.
- Winter is come. Beneath the barren sky
- The Elves are silent. But they do not die!
- Here waiting they endure the winter fell
- And silence. Here I too will dwell;
+ Now are your trees, old grey Kortirion,
+ Through pallid mists seen rising tall and wan,
+ Like vessels vague that slowly drift afar
+ Out, out to empty seas beyond the bar
+ Of cloudy ports forlorn;
+ Leaving behind for ever havens loud,
+ Wherein their crews a while held feasting proud
+ In lordly ease, they now like windy ghosts
+ Are wafted by cold airs to friendless coasts,
+ And silent down the tide are borne.
+ Bare has your realm become, Kortirion,
+ Stripped of its raiment, and its splendour gone.
+ Like lighted tapers in a darkened fane
+ The funeral candles of the Silver Wain
+ Now flare above the fallen year.
+ Winter is come. Beneath the barren sky
+ The Elves are silent. But they do not die!
+ Here waiting they endure the winter fell
+ And silence. Here I too will dwell;
Kortirion, I will meet the winter here.
Mettanyë
- I would not find the burning domes and sands
- Where reigns the sun, nor dare the deadly snows,
- Nor seek in mountains dark the hidden lands
- Of men long lost to whom no pathway goes;
- I heed no call of clamant bell that rings
- Iron-tongues in the towers of earthly kings.
- Here on the stones and trees there lies a spell
- Of unforgotten loss, of memory more blest
- Than mortal wealth. Here undefeated dwell
- The Folk Immortal under withered elms,
+ I would not find the burning domes and sands
+ Where reigns the sun, nor dare the deadly snows,
+ Nor seek in mountains dark the hidden lands
+ Of men long lost to whom no pathway goes;
+ I heed no call of clamant bell that rings
+ Iron-tongues in the towers of earthly kings.
+ Here on the stones and trees there lies a spell
+ Of unforgotten loss, of memory more blest
+ Than mortal wealth. Here undefeated dwell
+ The Folk Immortal under withered elms,
Alalminórë once in ancient realms.