Antique Lyrics of Arda

[Walküre]

MASTER DEVIOUS WILLOW

Let us sing and tell
Of wet gully and misty dell
Inside the very aged wood,
Scaring stranger and unsettling mood.

Be wary of thick reeds!
Malice has sown grudge and ill seeds.
Trees murmur and scheme,
Plotting mischief we gravely deem.

Beware of the devious willow!
Whose mal-advised words they follow
Those lacking enough wit,
Falling easy prey of deceit.

He's master of wailing tune by the moor,
So fancies he the unwary to lure
And trap tight beneath his root,
Enthralling beast and hairy foot.

One sole he fears
And thus with lies smears;
One who was afore,
Ere legends became lore.

[Walküre]

GREAT HARBOURS

Far yonder, past wood and green
Lie the great harbours, for most unseen;
A guardian ever keeps the shore secure,
To evil shut remains the door.

An olden sire of bygone days,
As old as shires we tell in lays.
His eyes are spears piercing through,
He held shield and sword drew.

He fought once to save a bay
And strived hard to bar the way
To ancient demons headed south,
Of prayer and pleas was full his mouth.

The aid of waters he was oft to invoke,
Summoning spirits who tempest woke.
His bond with angels had wonders wrought,
Antique ship-craft he had been taught.

Versed in sea-lore, thereafter he thus awaits
The end of brave deeds and sharp blades,
Until he's well and fine to part
From dull mortal coast, that always was his heart.

[Walküre]

THE OUTER ROAD

Mind the outer route
Either upon beast or on foot,
Taking you far away
To shires of long forgotten say.

Beware of northern winds,
Straying travellers with furious wings
Of gale and gut in utter manner,
Stirring amok the Ruined Kingdom's banner.

If you be due south,
Hush for once and stay your mouth,
For austral folks are easy to anger
Amidst scourging heat and recurrent danger.

The uncanny East you must avoid,
Lest any good be alloyed
By malice reigning on shadow,
Where grows no garden or meadow.

By turning west shall you find relief
From swiftly-encroaching grief.
Some even voyage yonder, passing the sea,
To seek perpetual bliss and glee.

[Walküre]

A GIFT TO BESTOW

Behind the girdle of my spell
Shall your company rest well;
Inside the golden mirthful wood
One finds plenty of joy and food.

The Ring-bearer I welcome glad,
For it is no grim time or sad.
Sojourning here is to renew
Minds and forces, grown worried and few.

ELVEN CHOIR: "Hark careful, dear guest!
Worse climes your faith shall test.
Within the miraculous Lady's shield
No stain is ever upon our saint-field."

Gentle Hobbit, I will a gift to bestow,
As foul events run and flow
For the utter ruin of the Free Folk
Whom I cannot safeguard nor cloak.

Receive thus this Light of mine,
Which serves the gallant, pious and fine.
May it be hope in haunted fort or dreary cave,
As mariners rely on their vessel amid tempestuous wave.

[Walküre]

NORTHERN RUIN

From within cold wicked stone
Fell winds had stormed and blown
A languishing kingdom of old,
Eventually betrayed twofold.

Time had run so late
To mend faults and revert fate;
Discord was sudden to spread
Along with deep fright and dread.

Inside the hills evil awoke,
It struck rapid and peace broke.
Horrid host of fiends and ghouls,
As grand rulers were played for fools.

Commanded by some vicious ghost
That death and chaos yearned the most,
Master of dark ancient arts,
And hail would pour in nasty darts.

Cults and witchcraft became dreadful plague,
Until winter undid resistance and froze the flag.
Then, all was done and lost,
Plunged into misery and frost.

[Walküre]

REBORN AND BACK

Reborn and back am I!
As woe betides and doom gets nigh.
Clothed anew with flesh and guise,
To aid the strayed and dispel lies.

Behold the new head of the Order,
Bound eastward, past the border;
An ailing shire awaits comfort
From vile spirits that truth distort.

A potent staff shall serve me well
By conjuring marvel and spell,
For any foe to fear
And amok quickly rear.

Hurry, I must fly swift across griefs
Passing anguish, pains and wrong beliefs.
If I succeed, a weary king shall rise again
To slay the wolf in his very den.

If I be to fail,
Squires will fate bewail
And kneel before a crown
Made of skulls and flames, far deep down.

[Walküre]

BORDERING HELL

Next to looming night
Lie shires of might,
Domain of stone and ore
We sing in tale and folk-lore.

Stronghold of glory,
Now worn and weary;
Ailing in decline
In wait for decisive sign.

Near the poisonous dell
They border dark and hell.
There, where billowing ashes choke,
Hatred stirred and then awoke.

Wraiths infest and haunt
The City foes shall never daunt;
Avoid the path leading east,
In the midst of lesser and least.

Pray, the White Tree is not to wither,
Now and on, here and hither.
Across the peak a friend will answer
When shadows crawl and grow much denser.

[Walküre]

SADNESS IN PARADISE

Woeful is the tale,
Her they often wail
Where merriment and joy reign
And no ghost has ever lain.

The Elven maid they mourn,
Drained by malice and life-worn.
The wrong way she had chosen
While crossing heights, sharp and frozen.

Fallen prey of pernicious captor
That much desired to harm the sceptre
Held in the Vale of Wonder,
Which no assailant will raid asunder.

Slain the fiend and saved the dame
Who got psalms and sombre fame,
For her love she had to leave,
Bound to weep and sorrow grieve.

Perhaps, beyond the seas she might heal,
Where never stops the wheel
Of Eä's fateful lore,
Drawn venom and passed the door.

[Walküre]

PAST THE HAPPY LAND

Left the homely hut and rich meal,
Now with arduous journey shall you deal.
Master Tom commands water, trees and hill,
Boundless in allegiance and will.

However, you're soon to pass the plain
And green meadow winding up the lane;
Out of his broad shire, Tom's voice shall not reach,
To save from dusk-wight and chilling screech.

Past the happy land
Is no well-wishing hand
That'll greet your brave task,
Were you for aid ask.

Hearken to wise word and beware
Of the Enemy's serf and his snare.
Spies watch and peer at foreign news,
Be it country, mountain or marine blues.

Entrust the worthy with faith
And avoid deceitful wraith;
In doubt and agony, gaze at the lamps lying above,
Lit by holy might, with hope and love.

[Walküre]

BEACON OF WICKED

Nasty Orcs inhabiting pit
Find themselves well
Where raging fire is ever-lit
Along the cursed shadowy dell.

There, under the endless gaze
Of the Lidless Eye,
Wreathed in flames and haze,
Sign of omen and lie.

Horrors come and go
Onto the realms of dark,
Patrolled by pike and bow
Which flesh maim and mark.

Ire stirs within the Mount,
Whose leaks burn and taint
Beyond reckon and count,
Rendering skies faint.

No dainty thing
Brings such beacon of wicked,
Behind the dreary peak's ring
Is naught pious or sacred.

[Walküre]

LIVING FOREST

Another forest grows in wild,
Resting quiet and much mild
About the southern mountain's end,
Whereto streams climb and bend.

Neighbouring hard stone-walls,
The old tree hums and calls
For light rain to pour
Over lively green and dry moor.

Bounded by black mighty house,
Whence is the wizard fain storm to rouse,
Atop the highest pinnacle of his tower,
Conjuring nature's wrath and foul power.

Rage too bestirs the dull ancient wood
As sole ignoble doing ever could;
Peace was sudden to be broken
And thenceforth ill events foretoken.

Vile witch, know that greater forces wake
For willow's, oak's and alder's sake.
A potent mind arose in fury
Turning reeds dark and dreary.