Antique Lyrics of Arda

[Walküre]

The saving of light


We have prayed and hoped much that the radiance of the Noon would not be made into nothingness forever and until the end of Arda itself with the breaking of the known reality,
Albeit the venom of such horrific creature being of a kind which naught was able to render useless and ceased,
The wisdom of the Powers made it that not all would be lost and that hope bore still a feeble gleam of survival in itself, for grand is the magnitude of such a brightness whose holy nature the ruined Lamps and the eternal Stars of the sky equally shared,
From the fruit of perseverance, two remnants of the colossal Trees managed to be rescued for good, and their light thou art now capable of gazing in the vastness of the air, symbol of love and care for a world that needed not perennial darkness to persist.


In the grimmest hour, a miracle was possible to be made. The divine intelligence could never have permitted the halls of Arda to linger in the perennial night that would be ahead of all inhabitants of the World, be it the continent or the westernmost lands. The awakening of the second kind of the Children was very near, and a life amidst shadows their feebler being could not have borne. Moreover, Morgoth had just returned to Middle-earth and was ready for the most violent of the clashes, intending to retain the tenure of the Jewels and destroy the noble Houses of the Noldor that had chosen the exile. Those imperative facts led the Powers to seek for a decent resolution, albeit the splendour of the Noon being lost forever and so living in annals as one of the many tragic memories that the past narrates among the tears of victims. Nienna sang at the behest of the other Kings and Queens, and her mourning for the wounds inflicted to Eä was turned into hope and endurance. Her weeping washed away the filth of Ungoliant and Yavanna managed to retrieve two last fruits from the Trees' dying spoils. The Sun and the Moon were thus placed in the ethereal skies and their own eternal path they shall always follow, unto the very breaking of reality.

[Walküre]

The Mariner and his ship


Who knoweth the true fashion of the Mariner's ship? Now that the immensity of sidereal halls he treadeth, being that supreme order of the King of Arda whom we invoke in adversity and lack of fortune during the hardest difficulties of ours.

Who knoweth what the very vessel is in truth crafted of? It might certainly be what furthest existeth from the arts of common knowledge, even if it is told that initially it was fashioned in the guise of renowned swan-ships at which Sea-elves much rejoice, only to be blessed by the incantation of the Lords who yonder dwell.

[Walküre]

Drought and hostile guests


Travellers are warned and very much suggested not electing such journey across the dry desert of the wide South, untamed and unknown too,
If not even envoys of other kingdoms are sent thither, there must be just reason behind, and one should bear in mind that to the bitterness of war the dwellers of those heat-torn ways are ever-acquainted since the beginning of mankind's roaming in this world,
Drought and hostile guests you are much likely to encounter there as sole companions of your ill-reasoned foray,
Alongside the biggest type of beasts which many reported living between desolation and sand, and the ancient Evil was too forwarding its tentacles over the place, as part of a scheme to subdue the scarce-means tribes under the banner of whom once the monarch of Men himself dared name.


Not much is known of the deep South of the world, other than the multicoloured tribes inhabiting that hostile environment. The harshness of nature must have been reflected on those people equally, being used to the most feral aspects of such condition. It is also possible to speculate whether other kinds of titanic animals live in the surroundings of the desert; additional predators and otherworldly beasts? Taking advantage of consolidated rivalry among diverse realms and of ignorance about the old western knowledge, Sauron sided with some of those tribes, promising a reward and presenting himself as the sole king of the whole human kind. Thus the unceasing turmoil being spread from Gondor's ends. Thus the disgraceful alliance of the southern peoples with Mordor. A sign of Men's fragility, whose will and determination may falter; the remnants of Sauron's vainglorious plans in the Second Age of Arda, which caused the wrath of Númenor and the beginning of the old times' twilight.

[Walküre]

In tune with necessity


In tune with necessity one must always be, for it is not granted to us that the power of foreseeing might be available and thus of positive usage in the logic of whatever challenge we are to undergo, and even when peril appears the only alternative to a total failure, you ought then peril to face with courageous mind and will, since the chance of success is seldom high and much hazard might entail as well, and even if fate compels to part from the chosen road towards obscure mines or ghostly marshes, you must be prepared in similar terms, and the conviction of iron and justness with you must be carried, for reason and wit could be the last tool in your hands at the end.

[Walküre]

What differentiates tales


People, who prime characters of deeds are and always will be,
Foes, who much yearn to hinder the Good's advancing, and the dominance of entire life too,
Braveness, which is the measure of battles and valour, precious as jewels in the heat of the contest and at the turn of the tide,
Grief, which all strikes and naught spares, being sad death and ruin a mournful custom of this earth's lifespan throughout centuries, millennia and before.

But even joy and jubilant feast, once the clouds of malice depart from the horizon and the hue of our lives again is made serene.


Tales naturally entail the most diverse and widest range of elements, characters and ever-present traits; the 'hues' that are mentioned in this composition. One may thus recognise recurrent themes in stories which were born to be intertwined with each other, although the connection is not much visible at a first glance. These are nonetheless the pillars on which all ought to be carefully placed and given life, lest we barely read grand stories and great examples for common experience, but only bland narrative and scarcity of meaningful aspects which could interest the reader. Well valid customs and laws that every story-teller worthy of this title should consider in most cases. Let me seize the proper moment and come up with the saying: writer who boasts and much pride holds, stick to the lore and your lyrics fine always shall be.

[Walküre]

The Dark Knight


Past hidden and secluded in the thick shadows of antiquity, which only the oldest may make clear and plain another time still, in the events of the awakening of the Elven kind, immortal and kissed by luck and blessed by the sacred eternity on its throne awaiting, when the Evil first at the Children with malicious eyes began to stare, obsessed by their fair shapes and by their free spirit that the One only may provide, until the Enemy himself the guise of a black knight adopted, showing his fashion as a fell rider in the persisting night of Middle-earth, intended to capture some of those who were born, to use them as a base from which a new marred race was later to emerge.


The encounter with malicious forces was a pivotal event in the ancestral lore of the Elven kind. Beside legends narrating the known awakening on the shores of the Lake, the Eldar recall an atavistic nightmare which the initial jubilation of the Children's coming had marred. Melkor was the first to know that the Immortals had woken up and that they were wandering about the ends of the adjacent woods. The Fallen Vala thus took the appearance of a sinister dark rider, terrorising the newly-awakened Elves and sending them ghoulish ghosts of the darkest sort. The ones who dared get too far from their akin companions were never seen again; they were brought in chains to the deepest pits and ravines of the ancient Dark Fortress. An abyss carved into the stone, meant to hide the presence of its master from the Lords of the West. There, the sad captives suffered the tragedy of torture and their very nature was ultimately twisted by demonic arts and spells. It thus befell, that Ilúvatar's creation was mauled and ruined, with the intent of giving birth to a new wicked race, which was doomed to serve the orders of any fell lord endowed with terrible powers. Orcs were therefore presented to Arda; disgraceful testament and vivid evidence of corruption. The memory of these days of dread and fear might perhaps be still alive in the mind of the oldest ones, crystallised yet hidden profoundly in the furthest past. Creeping shadows vanished, once another knight had visited the young Eldar. He was bright and enlightened by the very radiance of the western Holy Shire. The Hunter-vala had been sent as envoy of hope and light, for the Powers had to safeguard such a splendid creation and the company of the Eldar much desired.

[Walküre]

The Wanderer is known with a multitude of names


The Wanderer is known with a multitude of different names, in the tongue of whom was his host benevolent and much curious, for a very old man he resembles, but strong and resolute in will, being used to the hard condition of long voyages around the globe, in order to know the manners of different people and much knowledge to acquire, and many have actually noticed that this grey wizard is more fond of open air than the others whom we know too, and extremely fond he's also of riddles and issues to resolve, for his buoyant character would fain mend what is flawed, even if the very quest is to be long and daunting, yet he boasts a fire which never perishes amidst opposing winds, and he was appointed to an imperative objective to achieve, as a mission ever-present in his indecipherable thoughts.


Right after their arrival on the shores of the western shires of Middle-earth, the Istari endeavoured much to recollect part of the vast wisdom they were deprived of, as their memories as Maiar of Aman were concealed in the depth of their own mind by decree of the Valar, for the Powers wanted to prevent their emissaries on earth from making usage of their potential to seek for might or domination over mortal peoples. Journeying therefore became a reality the wizards got accustomed to very quickly, and the chance to visit the most remote lands gave them much knowledge of the world in return. Especially, Mithrandir embarked on long peregrinations and by his hosts was always loved and respected, harbinger of joy and merry news; or, had misadventures been occurred, he was always willing to aid the one in need, since the toil of quests was source for him of genuine interest and care. Buoyancy, defiance in grave fate and stout resolution. These were the grand traits of the Grey Wizard, destined to be author of even greater miracles in the world. Loyal servant of the Good, to whom the Shipwright had entrusted the Ring of Fire, imperishable and eternal flame of hope.

[Walküre]

Somber toll to concede


Scattered pieces of the noblest of the blades, which now under the vigilance of the Valley's Lord rests, still and silent for the sacred contemplation of voyagers,
The sword of legends that the Evil dared stomp and break, amidst decisive contest at the slopes of ash and fire,
Two kinds elected not to bow and never faltered, being amazing remnants of what of elder times had been, yet bent by the challenge of time and by of relentless malice the darkest misery,
Together, once again, marched in grand triumph across the venomous plains of the obscure domain of the East, and even if the perishing of two mighty kings was somber toll to concede, victory was reached and the era of terror to an end was eventually brought.


The brutal departure of two mighty monarchs was indeed the gravest toll to concede, so that the Last Alliance could triumph against the hordes of hell and while facing the most dreadful of the foes possible, wrathful and longing for vengeance towards whom still dared challenge his rule in Middle-earth. Elendil, faithful and pious among the loyal friends of the Eldar, lone remained as the last lord of the sunk Númenor, as the noble keeper of the old wisdom which was granted to the Edain at the end of the Elder Days. He was pioneer of the new rebirth of Men on the continent and prime founder of Arnor in the North. On the other side, Gil-galad was the guardian of an even older and nobler tradition, tracing back to the lost lore of the High Kings of the Noldor. All of the last four High Kings suffered and strived to contain the ever-creeping malice of Arda. Alas, starting from Fëanáro, each of them was doomed to undergo the most cruel of the deaths. Yet, the heroic acts of few led to the salvation of the many, in a world that slowly turns grey and apathetic to the other one's misadventures.

[Walküre]

A mistake we are


Love, a mistake we are and presumably appear to be, in the eyes of whom the entity of our fate ignores, because to the flame of passion and to the mystery of affection not all are used, together with such a disruptive force, which us tied regardless race or might, disregarding boundaries and weights and toils, that are indeed obstacles and often chains for the decent have been, and straining strife to face in any moment of stories and tales.

A mistake we are, maybe, in this strange course of events, where fallacious life with the immortal kind has mingled, first example in ages of common lore, but we know for sure that naught without just reason befalls, within the order of intelligence and planned projects that above the very heavens had initially been conceived.


Very few, if none, could have imagined that such a tale would be true. The most famous legend coming from the ancient and obscure past. The never-ending union of the two bloodlines. Beren and Lúthien. Of incredible deeds they were authors and their legacy well lives still in modern days; the noblest ancestry which relates equally to the grand royal House of the Noldor. It does linger in the grey world, flowing in the veins of whom of the two Twins chose the existence that never ceases; accepting the destiny of the Elven side.

[Walküre]

Foreign foot won't pass here


Foreign foot won't pass here, across my domain secretive and secure, any breach I can't and shall not tolerate,
Shadows always creep behind and never should they be granted mercy or faith,
At a first glance, the first evidence or proof, guard must be high and ready one ought to be, to abandon the amicable warmth of home and affectionate land,
Whilst we strive and hither endure, strangers and voyagers will not get the privilege of welcome in such a grey period, for secrecy goes beyond all and more precious than gems we truly deem it.


Peculiar trait and characteristic side of Thranduil is isolationism. He staunchly sticks to this kind of attitude, as he regards it essential and necessary for the long continuity of his rule over the eastern woods. Woods which he and his people have never left, albeit being forced to change dwelling and establishing themselves in the northernmost edge of the vast forest. There, grand halls were carved in the stone and any passage was barred and closed, for none of the outer peoples has the permission to enter the hidden ways of the Woodland Realm. And if diplomacy deteriorated, the Evil knew that not all woods were under fell control, and that resistance still existed in Mirkwood. Orcs seldom dared tread the ways of the Wood-elves, being lethal sentinels always on the alert and much acquainted with the hard life of endurance.

[Walküre]

Hé waes Sceadufæx


He was Shadowfax, at the turn of the fate-changing tide, harbinger of joy, hope and final salvation amidst such sorrow,
Noble and holy steed of the renewed wizard, clothed in white and of the keys of Arda's future he was wise guardian, imperative the order and clear the path,
Death he had faced, yet the demon was crushed and his fading ruin upon the mountain peak was thrown,
He now rides for liberty of all, bright beacon that hearts rekindles to glory and courage, and his light is to live within the ways of this world, unto his mission triumphant end finds, when trumpets and bells from the other shore shall sound: Mithrandir, the Western Lords crave your return.


The title is Old English for 'He was Shadowfax'.

[Walküre]

At the edge and even beyond


At the edge of wisdom and even beyond, thou longest to advance further in the remote, yet vain and foolish thy wish shall be, for none vessels through the horizon may govern, now that bloody battle on the Hither-Lands is fought and thy faults the fury of the West have caused, unto the gloomy present ye all live, and mist shall always persist and storms in eternity shall wuther still, unless piety paveth the way which had been thitherto shut and barred, lifting the spell of secrecy and the curse that on you since origin hath been cast, and the ship favourable wind shall find and waters its passing will no longer oppose, headed to white and silver shores where naught fadeth nor withereth as common experience in the tales of Mortals, hither where the just rule is made reign and command, and none in truth dareth ill thoughts conceive, for paradise is calm and the finest dream in which thou may live.

[Walküre]

Yet grief she turns into hope


The solitary dwelling along the shores facing the unknown and forbidden,
It was her sole choice and judgement, for from palaces and jubilant feasts she wanted to stay apart, waiting and treading with unceasing pace, unto what for the world in the firmament has been decreed,
Over sadness she reigns and commands, and her tears water dry ground or poisoned spoils, to wash away the stained guilt and new life to grant, because green grows still and anew, albeit tragedy and agony which one may have withstood,
Do not mistake those words, I beg, for never hopeless despair is the ultimate result, as grief and sorrow eventually she turns into hope, warm consolation to the suffering and grieving mind.


Nienna belongs to the mightiest order of the Valar and she is the Queen of Sadness. Similarly to her brother Mandos, she prefers to remain afar from the bliss and jubilant aura of the plains of Valinórë, electing instead the quietness and mystery of the most remote regions of the Blessed Realm, at the westernmost ends of the very West. By the shore she treads and waits, gazing at the vastness of the outer ocean of Eä, which no Elf or Man may journey through. And she mourns for the grievous thread of events that has characterised every chapter of Arda's long history, even though despair is not be seen in anything pertaining to her, for sorrow is raw matter that permits hope to emerge from the ashes of misery. Her most notable deeds were the raising of the legendary Two Trees, watered by her tears during the Song of Yavanna, and the saving of said light in the aftermath of Ungoliant's strike, when the radiance of the ancient Noon risked to be lost forever and forgotten; her weeping cleansed the filth of the monster and gave the dying Trees the necessary strength to produce two fruits, destined to voyage across the blue as the Sun and the Moon.

[Walküre]

The Tower of Guard


Mighty deed and craftsmanship which stone at will shapes and moulds, this is grand legacy of whom the seas used to govern, and glorious rule via rivers and streams reached the shires that stand east on the continental mass,
Of the two twin-cities it is the one at the warm sun's rays rejoicing, established in middle way and central spot in the southern realm,
Terrible and striking the loss of her twin indeed, conquered and cursed, the reign of witchcraft the ghostly stronghold was doomed to suffer,
The tide was about to turn and elect a new grim path, as shadows returned in the grey world and with trepidation Men the passing of time began to measure, yet defence was once again raised and the remaining fortress as white colossal shield of Gondor was proclaimed, for grave fatigues for the last sentinel still future is to hold.


Minas Tirith rose above the honour of mention at the beginning of Gondor's grim times, inexorable prelude to what was yet to befall in the world. Sauron, puppeteer of the most cunning sort, had moved his pawns carefully and thoughtfully for decades and centuries before. The wraiths came back from the forgotten memories of defeat and overcame the Moon-city situated at the slopes of Mordor's own mountainous chain. Alarmed and facing the nightmare of a new war, Gondor fortified his realm and prepared plans for the oncoming clash with the Evil, envisaging a strategy of endurance and resistance; but defiance was nonetheless an idle one, for no active counter-offensive had been conceived in the meantime, with the intention of preventing Sauron from gathering a large army of all typologies of cruel servants. The most notable measure was the transformation of the one-time joyful city in a stone-made guardian carved into the peaks of Middle-earth. There, Men shall withstand the grandest of the tests, and hardest equally. For the sake of all cherishing liberty and hope.

[Walküre]

Do not be wary of the arts of a wizard


Men, common and resilient kind you are all in truth, versed into learning and making theory a wonderful practice, because you need raise your hard strongholds of stone and pale marble which is renowned in every corner of this world, but you should also pay attention to these words of counsel and care, that wary of the arts of a wizard you ought not to be, being those not wanderers and beggars whom fortune has casually brought hither.

They are old and uncanny wit they hide, of this I am sure, and affected by toil they don't seem to be, and by aging in equal manner, for a mission they must must fulfil, of which the common man may not be told, and so let us pray that their coming an omen of positive future is to be, being us weary of grey vibe and increasing tension, as mankind as a whole needs hope as never before throughout continental events and diverse happenings we might have little memory of.


Men and Elves were both puzzled by the arrival of the wizards in Middle-earth. Figures cloaked in mystery, whose nature could not be equalled by anything in the lore of modernity (the Third Age). In very rare cases they were dreaded by people, though, given their natural proclivity to helping the one in need; and voyaging to the furthest places was a constant trait of all of them, being ever-interested in acquiring knowledge entailing the secrets of Arda and thus unearthing what lay hidden, veiled by the passing of eras. Someone was more fond of thorough studying, whereas others preferred the adventurous vibe of long travels, getting peoples and realms to know them personally, with the forging of staunch ties of amicable courtesy and friendship. As soon as it became evident how the burden of aging did not affect their kind, murmurs were being spread and voices would say that the Istari could be emissaries of the ancient West, sent hither to prevent a catastrophe from befalling. The Keeper of the Havens, the Lord of Imladris and the Lady of Lórien were the sole to know who they in truth were and where their fate would lead them. In particular, Círdan foresaw the miracles which Gandalf would be author of, at a first glance; thus, to ease the toil and fatigue of his mission, the millennial Elven lord entrusted Narya to the most pious and kindest of the five: the Grey Wizard.