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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Thy wicked will, thy final doom


Who knoweth the reason for the treason hath not come forth yet,
For very little we may understand, when the head of the wisest eventually chooseth the other side,
Madness or fool plans, we can't determine the cause of that,
Yet, traitorous wizard, thy wicked will thy final doom shalt be, for thou wagest war on the World and naught of the consequences seemeth to interest thee.

Walküre:
The Ramparts of Glory


Follow your true path, Heir of Men, and may the luck of your kin be of the best avail,
And I shall lead my host to our fate, where, I hope, under the ramparts of glory we shall ultimately meet.


The king of Rohan uses 'ramparts of glory' to refer to the mighty walls of the White City, where he and Aragorn are supposed to meet, once the battle is over. Obviously, this won't take place, due to the death of Théoden, even though the expression itself could also be viewed as a figurative circumlocution for glory in general (in the afterlife).

Walküre:
The age of troubles for both kinds


The Second Age of Arda, let me get you acquainted with the tale,
It came natural and quiet after a major contest had taken place,
And Elves and Men rejoiced at the newly-found solace, spreading as breezes in most of the continent now liberated and calm,
With rule and prosperity to offer for the other people there, and sorrow was from the previous harm then a memory of a darker past.

Men were given their so desired prize, a gift to honour the loyal fight of whom of their kin that the Powers against the Evil aided,
An island, in the midst of the blue, as mortal ground so close to the immortal serenity had never been,
A great empire was therefore built, broad marine power and a force that soon was the grandest to reckon with,
While Elves were lingering on the western shores of the mainland, relying on the legacy of their last glorious High King.

Sauron was not done with his snares and in hatred left the forest of the World, in a fair fashion and deceptive propositions,
Elf-smiths were tricked and moved by lies, so that the Rings of Power saw light and in evil hands eventually fell,
And war again burned and savaged the fields of the mortal shires, until the cry of desperation passed the sea and reached the mighty naval empire,
Leading to a great landing and to the Dark Lord kneeling in presence of such a might, albeit the pride king's longing for the eternal life and for the acquaintance of whom stands as Melkor's most cruel auxiliary.

Walküre:
The Red Dawn


And then we may often behold the skies in rage,
Vermilion in all their shape and vastness, in grudge for the souls that were taken the night before,
This being common when it is decreed that one wars must wage,
And so we mourn and fain would like the tragic spectacle not to pay us its visit anymore.

Walküre:
The Ghoulish Marshes


A demon must have made it its deep and terrifying lair,
Beneath the rotten waters of that marsh which none would ever pass, if not for the most stringent need,
Corpses lie under the surface, or they are perhaps trapped in the sorrowful mazes of that wet tomb,
Conjuring all sorts of ill mood and terrible fears, as they say voices scream and are heard from the depth of the obscure blue, of whom fought the bloody battle the era before.

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