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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
The Smith of somber fate


The most skilful smith it is told that after the elder times lived,
In the age of uncertainty and unstable order, once the great Shadow had left the ways of Arda in the perpetual manner, offering to the new generation wounds and scars to heal,
And fear still dwelt among the souls of the lands that liberty had known anew,
For peril could be sudden and swift as the bolt in the stormy sky, surprising all and havoc wreaking across the young realms which only peace yearned.

With the Noldor who survival from the bloody slaughter had found in luck was a fine smith,
Of infinite means and the desire to mend the suffering of the World burned bright in him too,
Alas, of the ill-natured advices of a cunning figure he had opted to listen, in hopes that hands of the Hither-World the bliss of Eressëa or of the Holy Shire might have managed to mirror,
Yet none the wonders of the Yonder-World may replicate, for of the Ainur were the hands that them had crafted, and not of late Elf, Dwarf or Man.


Late Elf refers to the Elves who rebelled against the authority of Valinor and headed then to Middle-earth; and to Elves of the mortal continent that came after in general, for they were lesser than the ancient Eldar of Aman, with the sole exception of Lady Galadriel.

Walküre:
Flesh they long to devour


Those minions of the Evil must be vanquished and for all from the realms of the Free driven off,
Whenever one has the proper scope to act and undertake such imperative task,
And no wobbly will ought to wield the blade which the Orcs is to tear asunder,
For they are marred by the root and with the nastiest intelligence they were endowed with, in that only bad things they wish to bring and flesh solely they long to devour.

Walküre:
Draught from the westernmost skies


The mighty fortress of the Second Tyrant was then falling down and crumbling in disgraceful manner,
As the force that sustained it was no more in the World, along with its servants that now wander loose and without a guidance of some sort,
At that time, the woeful spirit of Sauron emerged from the ruins and appeared wrathful in defeat,
Only to be swept away by a draught from the westernmost skies, sent thither to cleanse the leavings of the battle and to purify the air.

Walküre:
The storing of beauty and bliss


Recurrent trait of stories and tales, the Good is always striving to safeguard what belongs to its power and the products of its crafting and benefiting magic,
Therefore, important is also the guarding of light in every of its forms and its storing in places secure and defended,
The Powers fled from their ancient dwelling on the very ancestral island upon the central lake of the primordial world, ruin had overcome them, but the effort into nothingness was not made, as beauty and bliss were brought somewhere else, to the very far and new West,
Albeit the sacred day of Valinórë not being able to go beyond the impregnable walls of the Holy Shire, it is better to have a sanctuary of light in widespread grimness, rather than naught at all in a vastness of misery.

Walküre:
He shall tread his path loose and free


From the bindings of captivity he has been liberated, so that no other malicious will shall enter his royal mind,
To command him as a puppet and the decay of his realm to behold in idleness,
He has now wielded his gallant blade of tradition and great legacy,
He shall ride his horse as in the days of old, and loose and free he shall tread his path, wherever glory or ruin in good and bad may lead him.

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