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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Ye have sworn an oath of ruin


Ye have sworn an oath of ruin, kin of the Smith, which no compensation to you is to bring at the end of your bloody voyage to the lands of shadows and danger,
And no mercy is going to pass through the door of the Noldor, as no mercy hath been granted to the Sea-elves that in utter horror along their havens brutal demise found.

Walküre:
They daren't to leave their lair


Allegiance you are seeking for, Heir of Gondor, for the deadliest allies you need summon for the battle at the gates of the White City,
These phantoms daren't to leave their lair for the ways of the common world, having no interest in your businesses and even in the approaching final battle of this age,
They were cursed and had their honour stained by the mark of infamy and felony,
For they refused to assist the king in a time of great necessity, preferring to flee from their posts and the path of cowardice to elect.

Walküre:
Thou shalt not indulge in vain ambitions


King of Númenor, thou shalt not indulge in thy vain ambitions which only ill might bode,
As thou in secrecy the life which doth not end seekest for in the most ardent of the ways,
Thou art in grave error, monarch, that thou may think that it is the very Aman to render its inhabitants immune to time and death,
Immortal the Undying Lands are indeed, for by immortal hands they were raised and the mighty Ainur them keep, along with the Eldar that sole among the Children thither may head.

Walküre:
Premonition II


The night was long and ever-suffering to bear, especially due to the nightmare that my sleeping didn't want to leave in peace, and so I found myself floating and as an observer gazing from above at the events of the World, until I beheld a fell spectacle in fear and utmost agony, for thousands of Orcs were swarming from the residence of the wise wizard in Isengard, in the midst of steam and thick smoke, and they were marching fast and resolute, for the killing of the human kind and the broad breaking of the realm of whom horses proud tames and has in his government.

Walküre:
Mercy they won't show


Cruel, you say? The minions of the Evil do not know anything of love and affection for other ones but themselves and whom they serve,
It is thus wrong to trust in their lesser judgement and think that piety they might hold in their heart,
Heart consumed by the venom of darkness and rotten from the very root, so that naught they may understand of such feelings which are dear to the free,
And merciless we must therefore be, for no resemblance of mercy they will show, being mere pawns in the hands of a greater evil.

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