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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
The lay of desolation


Which lay art thou willing to listen to, thy curiosity being legitimate and useful for the cause of knowledge and correction of mistakes?
Of the First, when a Tyrant sought domination on all lands and valiant Princes to retrieve the greatest treasure much were striving?
Of the Second, when a Dark Lord deceived the races of the World and of Men the monarch desired to be crowned?
Or of the Third, in which the revenant shadows attempted return and the gaining back of the tool, centre of disgraces and somber events?

Thus thou knowest this, that a lay of desolation through centuries and eras seemeth to have been hitherto told.

Walküre:
Great Fire, thou hast forsaken this world


Great Fire, thou hast forsaken this world, for the imperative duty of safeguarding thou decided to fulfil in its fullest, in the abyss of the mines thou hast then fallen, exploring pits and depths which no mortal eyes have since presence beheld, while furious tenson originated between thee and the fell Flame of Morgoth, and the heavens above were raging in wrath, at the sight of the two Angels battling their fate until utter end, yet thou withstood the hardest hazard in courage and glorious sacrifice, in order to give mankind the chance of victory in this last war of all, and I hope thou shalt return from ruin, hither, to aid the mission of the Good once again, awaiting the closing of this grey era of grim nature and spirit.

Walküre:
Flame of these decayed ways


Branches may rot, leaves may have green turn into sad yellow, and grimness may spread across the broad forest of the East,
But a flame here dwells and breathes bold sighs,
She goes in patrols and carefully keeps the path through the trees safe and secure, clean from filth and other beasts that one might possibly encounter in the creepiest nightmare,
Thus, a flame of those decayed ways, who neither surrenders nor is satisfied with the course of events within her secluded realm, for liberty she loves and for it until her last breath she is to battle.

Walküre:
Her Majesty


Her Majesty within ancient woods and deep halls in the resilient stone,
Thou dwellest beside the Silver Lord whom all Sea-elves as patriarch worship,
Thou art the wonder of thy secretive people who long have endured the harsh wheel of fate often turning ill for the millennial realm,
Thou art a blessing sent from thy dwelling lying yonder, across the impetuous waves, the sole of the Good, facing the reckless malice of the Flames and their master on the Iron Throne.

Walküre:
I harbour in me the will of life

Poem dedicated to the mariners of Númenor, and to all its people in general. Hard and tough, because one must be ready to withstand even the fiercest of the waves.


Little importance has the struggle and the kind of storms which your ship is bound to pass past and over, for light finds its place inside our very heart and mind, being the will of life brighter and more vivid than the most intense lighthouse that the blue surfaces makes lit, and even outer lights may help in the journey, as long as the internal flame burns strong and vehement, for in me I harbour the sentiment of striving to succeed, and to surpass the clouds that menace us in somber hours, just to sail and reach the goal of the voyage, with winds behind my back and the sunny day blessing the deed.

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