Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Were it just and rightTo leave the shore for Might?Doth the Elda well,To yearn the hallowed Dell?Blues and mist we passTo land on stainless grass,Heading whither travelSaints combating evil.
Get in front of dancing fire!I shall fain wring my lyre.Many stories will unveilGood and fairness of the Tale.Art thou merry well enough,Within these lonely bounds of rough?Brutish life is not thine own,Clement Man who walk'st alone.
Fly! Soar in haste above!Hap we need, to save my Love.The fateful Gem we have retrieved;Long have folks one foulness grieved.Lo! Splendid ramparts lieUnsullied by the sighWhich Freedom hath despoiled,Yet never wholly foiled.
Surrender not, my mortal Lord!Draw such gallant silver-sword!Heed the counsel of the Sea,For I listen to thy Plea.Night I see to grow tormented,By the Villain greatly daunted;Know that waters ever bringTale and sorrow to the Ring.The Ring of Doom wherein we speakOf Arda wounded and the Peak,Within the Ice thou fightest vain,Seat of Evil's waste-domain.Go, now proceed to findThe hidden Elven-kind!A Noldo needeth aid,Lest his Kingdom fade.
Ruins tell the lay,Built with ore and clay,Of the Bridge of yoreBy the thriving shore.Hap soon bade adieuIn the mounting blue,Bequeathing spear and bladeWhich tort thenceforth made.
Earned was Mercy at the last,Bestowed upon and justly cast,Before the grimmest Phantom-LordWho speaketh nought but godly Word.He saith that Love may chance againTo roam the world as common Men,Until the hour draweth closeFor mortal ones to weep their Rose.
Renown and fame befellA flowered joyous dell.Glens of jocund sortWhich Power made a fort.A sylvan King was glad to reign;His mighty Queen had blessed the lane.They grandly strove to rule in restAnd spend the elder age abreast.
Thou darest holy soulsWho once the Foul smote,Behind their mighty walls,Abiding so remote.Evil was in thee,First afore the Lore.War had crossed the sea,To bear thy wrath ashore.
Eased were flames and chilling cold,Placated full the yester-world.Two great Lamps in darkness shone,When Valar chose an Isle as throne.All rejoiced at perfect Order,Placed the radiance at the border.In the core would Rule abide,Decreeing fine the fates' tide.
We shall depart afarWith speed and lucky star,And pass the ocean's waveFor bliss we dearly crave.We covet endless mornAnd pearls that bright adornThe havens wrought of white,Beside the Power's might.Across the Gods' shieldLie halls and hallowed fieldWhich sung were oft aforeIn splendour evermore.We flee the sombre life,Strained and worn by strife.To pain we bid farewell,Defying vile and fell.
Sole bones, sole skull;Ill day, made dull.The Scourge in IceHath drawn his Vice.My weary Man,Thee I not canRelieve from DeathAnd dragon-breath.A horrid mound,By northern Bound,Decried have IIn grievous sigh.Yet weeping dothUnveil a Path,Through hapless RueIn midst of blue.
A beast as large as towers.She howls and fiercely glowersHer enemies afieldWho donned a coat and shield.Such tools may not availA rider in his mail,For fangs lay waste to foesAnd render useless bows.
Thy name I bellow loud!I curse the stormy cloudWhich borest thou hereinAnd Light was nigh to win.Within the Immortal FiefThe gate was torn by grief,And Trees decayed too soon,Where endless gleamed the Noon.Pursue shall I the aberrant Foe.A solemn Oath of rage and woe.I speak before the King and Queen,Be they to assist or conflict mean.If I be ruined, if I be spent,My prideful kin shall be contentWith sole revenge and my three Gems:Wear then your mail; take so your helms!
A clash recalled with glorious songIs gallant deeds which fair belongTo past ordeal, to viler clime;A bard shall make the fable rhyme.The Noldo chanced to battle him,About the lifeless fuming rim.His hammer fell on pious prince,For ever-wound to suffer since.
Below the sleepy silent firAre chambers vast, that fires stir.One roar and blast of howling wind:A golden foe! A soaring fiend!His wings beget the future plightFor Dwarven-kin and Durin's right.As landless lot you shall traverse,As though on all were cast a curse.
Frigid routes shall not forgiveThe unwary traveller of breeze,Who dareth chill and algid tempest,So wont in will to pass the contest.'Twas deadly path of elder age,Which godly warmth could not assuage.Betwixt despair and ageless green,Lay ice and frost and hopeless being.
Some rotten wetlands you will pass.Their ponds bewitch! Their ponds harass!An ancient battle laid that mereWith baleful ghost and wistful tear.Proceed ahead, through vast remorse,Which keeps the marshes ever-coarse.Next to foulness waters lie,Wherein all kinds their dearest cry.
He chose a fort, his hidden lair.A den of wolf. A cave of mare.Arisen once from frozen tomb:A fearsome harbinger of doom.His deathly paean sounded loud,Borne on cruel hailing cloud.A king of witches summons wraiths,For last demise of bonds and faiths.
A wooden belfry burns aglow,Stricken grave by ardent flow.Peasants ail, mauled afire,Forsaken lone by greedy sire.On wings a raging drake was drawnTo reap revenge till sombre dawn,And heavens lit were thus at night,About the lake that dwelt in fright.
How staunchly friends remainedBeside the Bearer, almost waned.On wasted moor; on marble-tower;Ye battled proud agin his Power!Humble ones succeed in faith,Harder still than troll or wraith.When wiser err in gross mistake,The Little Folks in quest partake.
Thee folks much dread.Thee woes have fed,As illness woken,Which fates betoken.Thine armour bearethThy wrong that farethSo vast across,With awful loss.Some putrid fieldsAre evil shields,Round twisted stone,As pale as bone.The Iron CrownWill mankind drownIn gore and blood:Such lethal flood!
To my plea ye hearken!Ashes swathe and darkenMorning-dawns of grief,Lading heavens stiff.O my kindly boy!Orcs much glad destroyThe unwary little one,Unless thou be'st neath sun.
Shabby are they trueAnd round the Shire few,For prone is Ranger wellTo foreign gloomy dell.Woods and glens they walk,Yet never fond of talkThey keep their secret hidden,Throughout these ways forbidden.
Neath the vaults of Arda's King,Round the Vala's splendent Ring,Doom is made by firm decreeAlong the Plains of ever-glee.Angels speak no futile word,Yet oft arise agin the horde;None shall dare the rightful Keeper,Lest he be of ruin the reaper.
Bethought have we of gentle Sire,Of flawless firmament the Star,Perished lone amid the FireIn kingdom tenebrous afar.A Lance he bore to slay his foe,Which none was able one to break;In dauntless will he faced the WoeWherein he chose to fain partake.
Arisen horsemen rode to meetTheir pending fate on ruined wheat,For fields recount a major clash,Which left but grief atop the ash.Shields undid and lances flungThe intrepid rider bards have sung;In front of doom he never waived,Since battle's gore was proudly craved.
Thinkest thou of me,My beauty ever-merry?Chance I now to beIn frigid lands of flurry.Hither have we fared,Deeming just to followWrath which plain had faredTo chambers lightless-hollow.Thee I sore regretNot giving farewell-kiss,For terror had us met,Swaying all amiss.I wherefore beg and prayThat fate be kind to allowLoving ones to BayWhich Elves with joy endow.