Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Within Kôr of Many Towers,Streets carved out of gold, balconies abundant of flowers,Pearls and jewels, here and yonder,To the ever-enduring glory of its blessed founder.Wealth and wellness, to the honour of their green home,About the shores of Aman, whither are led waves and foam,Up to the majestic belfry, auguring good and prosperous future,Inside the Sunny Country, realm of spirits of saint nature.
Guarding the end, two sentinels of celestial size,Them thou gavest beginning, divining ill beyond wise,Eternal is the route, ever die they and then rise,To feed hope in a world growing dim, which no longer recognise eyes.
Worries that mar one's being,Is the border of the wild so thin?Peril abounds well in the realm of faraway folks,The wight of discord sows ire and free walks.Herein, not a promise of happiness shall you find,Hither may you come, leaving behind daily grind,Hence will the foreign depart merrily, as the gleeful maiden or boy,If not at endless bliss, rejoicing at a tiny shade of joy.
From superb potent sire,To mere harmless squire,A sole voice calls for the aid of an heir,Praying, relying on justice deemed fair.Don't weary Men deserve the counsel of a guide?The mercy of a fine king, as soul-soothing as it's wide?Following a long night of watchful vigil, yearning sure law,Ending the sunset of hope they too often saw.
Risen is a new tyrant,Implacable as death, as a flaring sun vibrant,Not a vicious monster, not a vile fiend,Impetuous as roars thunder in the raging wind.She longs for a new domain to govern,Gaoling her foes deep in miserable cavern,Thus wills the new dreadful monarch, foretelling the advent of darkness,Though light has not gone out yet, welcoming a new empress of evilness.
Shall there be one, who may sustain her lethal gaze?One who shan't cower away and be lost in her maze,For the cruel queen speaks misery and plans foul gain,Towering over the lesser, as the very mankind's bane.Behold, skies are pierced by such a glare,Not fine radiance, but devilish sight of a mare,A spell of terror and folly,Meant to shatter one's valour and round the world wholly.
Her fury shall beget the coming of fearsome storm,Rousing gales and sea-tempest, to the breaking of nature's norm,Bowing waves to a new mistress of marvel,Before whom waters kneel, bearer of magic sung in dusty book or ancient novel.Should fools force her heart to wail,Fell rain shall flood realms and thenceforth tell a sombre tale,Washing rebels away and cleansing pity,Across every village, town and unfortunate city.
Lady of grief and dread,To a gloomy kingdom the world shall you have led,Before all is done and gone,Crushed kings without remorse and any contest won.For neither can marble resist you, nor may stone,As earth writhes in pain, same as grand palace or dome,Your command shatters land and ground, deep to the very core,Beneath shires and forts, for a hopeless abyss to bore.
Fay of woe, ruler of wuthering wind,The serf shall love his new queen, be he good or fiend,Monarchs bid servitude, offering land and host,Which sires have plenty of and superbly boast.Mortal hubris is but a mere glimpse before the gates of time,Implacable as plague, the peak of omnipotence she is to climb,Torturing the pious and caging the right,As ghoulish twilight descends on a marred world, harbinger of a long dark night.
Thy self no-one shall dare insult,Unless he be victim of vice and fault,Who may question the ever-true and fine?Doubting the godly and divine?Lady of Grace, spare us foul and ill,Saving a gentle heart, needing warm and no chill,Awaiting the time of thy final say,Then shall we welcome thee, at the end of the lay.
Past the field and homely road,Past the kind wet wheat, of which we reap a load,There lies the path of adventure and hazard,One we take not, one whence we're barred.
His last gaze was upon locks of gold,Crushed by his steed that weighed twofold,Before the pinnacles of Men's sentry,After forbidding foes from gaining entry.In truth, no vanity or hopeless sire,But a grand king of prior,Bidding farewell to mundane fame,Joining the ranks of his bygone kin, now without shame.
Red book which much tells,Oeuvre of the Hobbit that in a hole dwells,A journey, there and back again,In the fond company of either stubborn dwarf or brave man.And a quest to rescue the age and undo evil,To vindicate the poor weak and the unfortunate feeble,Late, at the twilight of wonder which foretokened tragic,At the ultimate sunset of prodigy and magic.
Upon the greatest height,Lieth there the seat of thy might,On the chief-mountain, so terrible and fair,Above all other peaks, where snow groweth free and bare.Betwixt round heavens and deadly void,Nought is made weaker or alloyed,Thee squires chant, praising the immortal radiance of such a face,Mirror of what was before seas and outer space.
Many joys, that we only ask,For the pious who ever stays true to his task,For the exhausted farmer, reaping the fruits of soil,For his old back, bent by winters and toil.
Autor
Thema: Antique Lyrics of Arda (Gelesen 175093 mal)
