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Autor Thema: Antique Lyrics of Arda  (Gelesen 170415 mal)

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #465 am: 21. Sep 2017, 23:18 »
Amok he must be wandering, for now...



The Tyrant? Amok he must be wandering now, along ways unknown and forbidden in the deep East of this earth, of which many are seriously frightened and no accurate tale as just account we may dispose of,
Who in the world might travel thither safe and unspoilt? Who could find the reason of his voyaging in such abandoned wastes, forsaken by grace and beauty?
For now, I feel like saying, in that the Evil holds return as an unceasing flame which its own interiors keeps on devouring in hunger, and naught evil entities learn,
For always they yearn reappearance in the broad Middle-earth, to move pawns again and war to wage, yet never their past mistakes they are likely to comprehend.

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #466 am: 22. Sep 2017, 23:02 »
Dreadful coming



I wonder and ponder, whether the Emperor of all evil might break out from his prison, one terrible day of doom for anyone breathing on the surfaces of the earth,
Chaos would follow and sheer havoc in the world once again shall be brought,
The ramparts of Arda would not perhaps resist, in the darkest hour, and they would fail in sustaining such sudden burden of calamity,
Another war shall be dreadful consequence of the tale, striving the Powers still to win the foe who never content may be, foundations being shattered in the process and death spread hither and yonder.



None but Manwë, Varda and Mandos knows what the End is to entail. The end of the world and Arda itself. Yet, something is very certain and plain as the sunlight of morning. The Evil, its ancestral source, has been banished and thrown in the desperation of the lifeless void of Eä. Were Morgoth to come back, that would be the prologue of the most terrible cataclysm which has befallen in the annals of the world. The very foundations of the earth will tremble and suffer due to the battle arising. All shall be broken, but hope finds a place in this ultimate divination: Ilúvatar shall mend flaws and an everlasting harmony is to be the final result.

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #467 am: 23. Sep 2017, 03:37 »
He is a doer, she is a giver



Aulë, matter he hath in government and control, for all its riddles he may solve,
None knoweth what might possibly be of a simple fashion, once his blessed hands labour and industriously shape, as the Smith is doer of grand deeds and teacher of infinite number of secret skills,
His wife green anew maketh and it growing she beholdeth in joy,
So much Yavanna to the world hath given, being her giver of fruits, wheat and shelter for beasts and for whom under trees dwelleth.

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #468 am: 24. Sep 2017, 15:55 »
Frozen distances



So long Men have wailed the destiny of their past realm in the North, founded and ruled by the very first king of both realms and of all who survived the utter catastrophe facing the arrogance of Númenor,
Frozen now lies the pride of Arnor, and ruined throughout silent hills, which serve crawling monsters at the present moment and are dwelling of creeping horrors,
A stain on Men's dignity, and clear example of the misery of disunity in such turmoil, when the awful enemy cunningly awaited the proper time and finally to reclaim the spoils of victory he appeared in the end,
The regency of the South no longer in the northern lore is interested, the memory being painful and troublesome the current years, and they should probably remember what has been before the millennium, in order to regret those blunders and the guard ever-high to maintain.



Not only jubilation the past of Men comprises. The old northern kingdom had first been raised and established by Elendil, leader of the loyal party of Númenor and first monarch of the kingdoms in exile, once the Five-pointed Island sank into the broad western seas. After the defeat of Sauron during the harsh siege of Mordor, the Third Age opened its gates well and wide to the renewed Men, confident and proud of the suffering victory they had achieved through death and desperation. Arnor stood in those days tall and majestic; the greatest of the two realms and stronger than its southern twin. Yet, the wheel of doom determined a different course that would later unfold. Fate and time forced the North to bend and kneel, overburdened by concern, worried by awakening nightmares along the surrounding fell hills and, most importantly, devoured internally by strife and disputes. Thus, when the wicked winter paved its way to the chessboard of northern geopolitics, Sauron's deadliest servant had naught to do but waiting for the civil war to maul what was left of the ancient domain of the North. And, albeit the forces of night being fended off by the concerted effort of Gondor and Rivendell, only ruins remained to be grave testimony of the tragedy that was. Alas, very little interested did the Stewards grow in the lore regarding the agonising kingdom.

Fools. Past always offers good teaching, when mind and ears are ready to listen to the far murmurs of antiquity.

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #469 am: 25. Sep 2017, 00:50 »
Clothed with shame and misery



Dirty robes and decaying visage, this is just retribution for thy disgraceful deeds,
Fallen figure of authority and might, thou bearest the burden of treason and treacherous snares,
Piety ought not to be granted, for whom in deceptive designs still dwelleth,
Aye, may the word be spread and plain, clothed with shame and misery thou art.


Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #470 am: 3. Okt 2017, 02:59 »
Thither and yonder, harbours of pearl



What is that, which some may gaze at from that far?
Dreamlike and dreamland both, once the eye distances of blue has finally passed,
To reach havens where sunlight never wanes, it appears to us,
The wisest clear have spoken, that those ever-white strongholds and towers are not the realm of the Rulers, whom dear to us we hold.

The vision of spectacle the easternmost limit of beatitude in truth reveals,
The harbour of our loyal and kind, magnificent friends,
The Lone Island, thither we would fain head, to greet the gentle mariners sailing and visiting us,
They are of the immortal kind, as all of those fortunate shires, by light blessed and divine command is their rule.



At the time of the dawn of its might, Númenor would look at the western seas with confident and respectful eyes, yet attracted by the eternal joy pervading the immortal continent. Albeit a ban from the Valar decreeing the impossibility for Men and other mortals to sail to the Undying Lands, the proud inhabitants of the Five-pointed Island were still loyal to the authority of the Ancient West. The sight of Men could go far and wide, in those merry days of songs and nobility. It is said that it was possible for them to see the white harbours of Eressëa, at times, when waters stood still and the sky clear. Murmurs would circulate that it could be the shores of Aman or even the towers of Valinórë itself; but the wiseman knew for sure that those remote and inaccessible lands belonged to the easternmost part of the Imperishable Territories: Eressëa. And the people of Númenor had exactly been honoured with such a privilege, since a visible proof of the thither-bliss was provided. Visible, yet not tangible...

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #471 am: 5. Okt 2017, 01:47 »
Their last gaze



Miracles, or perhaps not, who in the new modern world could foretell?
Many tongues of misadventures speak, of men who are thus not fine nor well,
The tale spread among mariners, long and wide it is told,
Arcane riddles, absurd they must be, and not common, yet belonging to the realm mysterious and old.

Wiseman narrates that flat the fashion of earth used to be,
So far the memory of the story, and equally obscure to see,
Voices spread in the silence of the broad world, and feeble murmurs that lost sailors through hazardous waters they have voyaged, and unknown, unto white shores of nature which none might fathom, and they were narrow lands encircled by the highest chain of peaks and stone, alien to mortal intelligence and certainly subjected to another rule,
Well, those souls look at that spectacle, terrible and noble, while their last gaze was upon a mighty mountain which over all else towered, eternal, still and never-changeable as time, until oblivion took them and these characters of valour we today mourn.



The Great Cataclysm following the treason of Númenor was the most abrupt event which had thitherto befallen in the halls of Arda. The foundations of the world were shattered utterly and the Undying Lands ultimately removed from Arda itself, taken out from the circles and winds of the new round globe. Men, therefore, could then sail freely to the western seas, discovering new territories, yet mortal as the other ones, while returning to the beginning of their journey, at a certain point.

Some far murmurs began to circulate, though. Tales of desperate mariners who had lost themselves in perilous seas, just to be eventually brought to uncanny shores by the force of some unidentifiable grace. On these long shores, part of a continent which no mortal being had trodden before, they last gazed at the supreme peak watching over the ancient shires of Aman, legendary and forbidden, only to find sudden death and inexorable demise.
« Letzte Änderung: 7. Okt 2017, 01:53 von Walküre »

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #472 am: 10. Okt 2017, 00:11 »
Festus the Red, of fiery will



Festus the Red, of fiery will and dauntless temper, the fire of war hath been placated for the good. Alas, I will not partake much into this renewed joy and jocular jubilation, for my fate doth command that to my primeval shires I must return. Ever-lit fields and naught there is made to decay.Yonder, beyond the sundering waves. Thither I shall go, whither I am bound to journey. Only, prior to my parting, I would fain honour thee and pay homage, for to all triumph belongeth. Thou art noble in heart, and, clothed with human flesh, my blessing thou hast gained.


Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #473 am: 10. Okt 2017, 17:20 »
Impious captive thou art



Enemy of Arda. Worst of the foes and origin of all that ill-natured hath been made. The chain of thy captivity doth justice to thee and the crimes thou hast committed. Now, to the Lit Earldom of the Powers thou hast been brought, as prisoner impious and covered by shame. Bow and kneel, in front of the bright throne of whom the sole King of Arda hath been designated.


Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #474 am: 11. Okt 2017, 14:45 »
You know no shame



How long are you to proceed in the direction of nothingness and void, Master of Snares?
For how much time have you been hiding and concealing your secretive plans?
Toying with characters and from confusion feeding,
Jackal and irredeemable hound, only after flesh and blood you are, in the end,
Forgiveness you don't seem to beg for, whilst hell you scheme for your opponents, who are just and stout in defence,
You continue and strive in truth with unceasing will,
Who knows the aim and goal of yours after much obscure thinking?
Who knows whither are you to crawl and slither?
The decent guardian does not waste time, nor will he fall prey of deceitful traps for sure,
Beware, unapologetic foe, you know no shame or manners worthy of our praise, and should hazard be close to us still, only blades and the firm sword of justice you are to face.

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #475 am: 11. Okt 2017, 17:13 »
I tell you, it was a land of arts and skills



Nay, I can't believe your words. All that my eyes see is lone shires and lands without rulers whom I might know. Solitary and wild. No fortress or settlement of some note. There is naught and none. Only spoils, in truth, of past kings who by the gentle touch of luck were not reached. Miserable spectacle, I say.

Man, dear mortal soul whose sight is hard to widen, if it's ruins what you consider poor and miserable, your eyes have been certainly bewitched. Ruins in fact speak much for the ear that is willing to listen. Grand craftsmen dwelt here and of their labours the whole world was full, made rich and content a good deal. Bonds were established and long friendships blossomed even between one-time hostile races. It was all a marvellous laboratory of the most ingenious minds, among whom a proud smith shone. He was of the immortal kind and was also said to be one of those cursed by the exile from the bliss that was. The stain of infamy was washed away and their rebellion pardoned. He did not intend to forsake this land, though. Much he loved mending flaws and the grave wounds of Middle-earth he thought he was able to cure. Alas, sham words of counsel were given to him. A cunning guest in search of help and vassals to whom give orders. He was the mind and the smith the hands. Artefacts of extraordinary power saw light, then. They could halt decay and the capabilities of their bearers make mightier as never before. These scattered pieces of generosity were, however, part of a sole thread. Fell scheme of lies and snares...

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #476 am: 12. Okt 2017, 01:37 »
The purpose of my roaming



My wandering has a reason which is the clearest thing for me; the centre of all and its very sense too. I know how some might question my constant travelling. They say it's not worth it. They say that mankind does not deserve such gift; aid in what seems to resemble an age boding ill. I ride still, though, facing odds, voyaging hither and thither throughout a world that asks for help. Voices of pain and grief I always listen to. Mercy and piety I deem supreme and the most honourable of the virtues. And power I see with suspicion; power which subdues, strangles liberty and flowers makes wither. Much contempt I have for such definition of power. For power is subtler in nature; it requires wit. Simple acts of kindness and love keep this earth warm, and comfortable. It is love what kindles and valour inspires. A flame which needs be nourished. And a feeble fire must be preserved from stormy weather, so that goodness has its place in the order of all. Should victory bless our utmost mission, it is to depend on the hands of the weak one. Weak only in the eyes of whom does not understand.

Walküre

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #477 am: 12. Okt 2017, 15:56 »
The Forest itself



Shepherd of trees. It is told that trees have found firm guidance among the mysterious paths of their old wood, which lies near the Ring of Isengard. A power beneath grass and fallen leaves. Hard to fathom and ever-lively, unbeknownst to common knowledge. One should refrain from journeying throughout those obscure ways, of which we know little or naught. Den of far memories. Emotions of diverse sort. Who could know whether trees would rather elect peace or wrath? Much they have endured in a world that to them does not pay attention or modest reverence. Aren't they perhaps not worthy of note? This I cannot believe. Fool the one who's alien to green things; blinded their eyes were and his conscience clouded by other disgraceful thoughts. The old manners of gentleness may still be forgotten, albeit said vital force being continuously stored and preserved, although trees prefer silence and motionless they seem. Their guide is ever-awake, though. No deception or crime he is to concede. Adamant temper, wooden fashion of long years passed at the edge, vigilant surveillance, unceasing wisdom and vivid beard. No mere tree is he! Mightier in truth than one might deem. He's the Forest itself, its life and very soul.

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #478 am: 13. Okt 2017, 00:45 »
Smith, the ways of Aman thou hast made dirty!



Smith, the ways of Aman thou hast made dirty in fury beyond thinking,
Immortal and noble, thou art given never-ending life by the One, yet through the path of grave expiation thou wilt travel,
Just outcome for thy doing without measure or shame,
Thou longest to reclaim what to thee hath since its creation belonged.

Who shall dare be in the way of such fiery vengeance, burning in perpetuity, for new nourishment it needeth?
The Protected Realm had never beheld anything of that ilk,
Grievous reminiscences they are to be,
Past harbours of merriment and peaceful chants, the fruit of their labour mariners did not want to give up to arrogant demanding, and so death spread and howls of terror within the continent of the Powers, which are ominous presaging of what future is to bring.

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Re: Antique Lyrics of Arda
« Antwort #479 am: 13. Okt 2017, 16:28 »
Mercy, history it has saved



Noblest kind of descent, the most splendid bloodline flowed in their veins,
Young they were, awaiting their definitive doom, grey and somber as when it rains,
The House of the Smith was in no way content with their broad dominion, reclaiming one of the Jewels of ancestral light,
Mercy triumphed at the grimmest time, the Twins were spared and piety worked for the avoidance of plight.