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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Maiden of valour


Valiant maiden of the cold heath, verily you are much used both to strife and harsh chill,
Naught of raw and rough nature has ever bent your adamant will,
To serve whom you deem your noble king, and to graciously help the one who is feeble and in need,
Anything fell your brave temper shall dread, for you are Shield-maiden of Rohan and destined our hope to lead.

Walküre:
Maiden of might


Mighty maiden of legends and antique tales, thou art radiant gem in the firmament of all our old annals, stories and lays,
Strong and proud, justness hath always been thy lighthouse through stormy seas, thou who from shires immortal hast come, ancient sacred soil and for mortals untrodden ways,
Sorceress of joy and light, princess in paradise and Elven queen in the grey age, in melodies we sing of thee and of thy grand deeds in the lands of suffering and wailing,
Awaiting the hour of thy parting, sailing to the realm holy and lit, whither thou wast bound to return, in the moment of decay and fading.

Walküre:
Justice wields a sword


Seldom has Justice never wielded a sword,
As retribution may come through punishment and ruthless word,
Indeed, malice often ought to be countered with a decent blade,
Which is will of ardent sort that all gallant has made.

Walküre:
They care not


They just care not, nowadays, those greedy Dwarves of secluded spirit; much busy with amassing riches they are and very little do the troubles of others worry their industrious doing, although the failure of one might be disastrous doom for them in the future, for this has been ever-clear in my mind, that the Evil would rather toy with one and sow discord, so that those would could prove worthy opponents are instead weakened, divided and thus close to defeat, under the cruel yoke of foes who mercy have never known.

Perhaps, should the Dwarven kind find the proper purpose and resolution, the worst nightmare for any foul lord they shall be, resilient to fire, darkness and any sort of treacherous tricks.

Walküre:
Simple merchants, you say?


Simple merchants? I'm wary of that, my gentle guest,
Ill-intentioned are many along these ways, who are envious and one's decency test,
Beware of the greedy ruler of this lake-town, lest he be made angry and furious,
Your mere fashion betrays the ones you in truth are, and you are noble lords and keepers of a treasure stupendous.

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