Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Finest dweller of the green,Those we hail as meanThou keepest awayIn every good story and say.Who art thou, I enquire?Not cheap conjuror or silly liar,But as old as the very earthWhich is still deemed happy and worth.
She gave me three fair locks,Of radiance that sunless past mocks,When the immortal kin abode in wonderAcross the sundering seas and farther yonder.Gold kindling hearts to joy,Pure silver which time does not alloy;Henceforth shall I name no other gift wellAs the Lady's, of whom folks great tell.
It's time you bade good-byeTo folks we deem strong and high,And much valorous and big,As quiet Hobbits who till the ground and dig.Round the Shire perils pryAs days got shorter and passed by;Nights grow darker and very grim,Giving way to shadows that foul beseem.
Thou sayest wrong of elder tale,When deeds beseem mere cry and wail;Bespeak, instead, of gallant kingDaring ominous fates on Morgoth's Ring.I beseech thee, the story ought not to rest untold.Grave events which smote Beleriand and were then to unfold,Bringing ruin and laying wasteTo fine grand realms, as hazard was faced.
Sing the glad tune and be content!Behold in marvel! It is my intentTo wake the faint trees to reason,Preventing harm and awful treason.I shall chant, careless and merryThe beauty of bushes, streams and berry,Heading home to meet my joy,Who ever welcomes this nice jolly boy.
Bogey-story of worn ageTelling war and tenebrous mage,Harbinger of fell chill,Laying despair by malicious will.A witch-lord clothed in nightFor the ailing of just rule and kingly right;Amassing large host of beast and spell,Shedding regal guise to grow ferociously fell.
"Come hither, I wait for thee.Through thick mist thou canst not seeSwathing evil about to strike,Akin to which is naught alike.Thou wilt slumber in howling wind,Inside the room of nasty fiendThat seeketh his plot to unmaskOnce sun is down, at fearsome dusk."
When kneels tremble and feet fail,One wondrous lady you ought to hail;The stream-maid, herald of spring,Whom folks revere and in legend sing.At the sky she waves to summon rainRefreshing woods and country lane,Awaiting her love at the edge of green,Where all stays well-tended and clean.
Giants roam loose and wild,Witless, savage and never mild;Unaware of vicious chainWhich is of evil worst bane.Minions need beasts to tame,To enslave and plunder they solely aim,Until green lands ail and chokeUnder the Dark Sire's yoke.
Above, the Grand Star roseFor the dread of ghouls and foes,Therefore clearing the elder nightWhen holy hosts would clash in might.The fleet of Manwë battled fireAcross heavens, celestial and higher;O! Sublime Mariner come from bliss,Thou wonst war and laidst bare the abyss.
At the sign of the Prancing PonyTales are told, sham and phoney;Enter, come inside!Folks who travel and far abide.At the sign of the lively innShall you see gross load of sin,While unfriendly eyes ever gazeAt foreign guest immersed in haze.
Fare, now, to grievous shire!Bear my will and the Power's ireWhich faithless fiend undoth,Gales shall blow and sound my wrath.Great Wing of mine,With such grace of thineWilt thou voyage skiesUnto lands, yoked in lies.
Ride quickly, dear wizard!Naught may hinder thee in truth,Neither wuthering nor blizzard,For thy quest is born in ruth.Fare well and stray not!Thou shalt fly on whispering windThrough much talk, 'why' and 'what',Unless thou be'st to enter gloom and battle fiend.
Foreboding death and terror,Far inland, within the realm of horror;Under drearily endless nightfallPortending ruin and downfall.Beside the fire-mountain,Of molten stone fountain,Stands his dark seat and throne,Damasked with grief and human bone.
Ah, thou willest to know moreOf queer Wizards and their lore,Enough to please thy witWith worn tales that bards befit.Then, they're all wise and five in number,Daring the unknown we deem sombre;No trifles is their power,But means to avail those grown yet sour.