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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
So low


So low, we have descended,
Along a path paved with thorns,
We should have known,
Indeed, we were exactly told,
History is a wheel,
It never ceases its turning,
And turn it is made by incredible forces,
Alas, most of the times it is wicked ones,
Mayhem they wish to propagate,
Bitter, this is the fate.

Fate we shall all face, regardless of taste,
So low, the morale of one-time warriors,
Bent by cold winters and ardent noon,
Waiting for a foe who keeps his doing hidden,
Waiting for ruin to come swiftly,
Ruin which lurks in the dark, instead,
Not prepared yet,
To manifest the obscure intent,
That hour is quite far, for now,
When hope is to turn in feeble candle, on the edge and dim.

Walküre:
World of night

The Sun moves to the far West of the world, bound to end its daily route and rest, leaving Middle-earth at the mercy of doubt, if not for ancient lamps that ever in the night shine of starlight, bearing the testimony of ancient ages before.


Your lamp went away,
This the inevitable cycle,
Determined and by your grace decreed,
Light left space for a thick night.

A world of night,
In which dwell night-mares and snares,
Pray, let us not forget us, we beg,
May your deeds give us comfort and darkness pierce, as that was always since the dawn of things.

Walküre:
A mere blink of an eye, fool!


Fool! You dare deem us the least,
Yet, naught of what is your knowledge is true,
You came here, inside my halls,
Within my kingdom, you have entered it,
These green paths are my government,
And so is anything breathing life under the stone,
Aye, you did not expect the sudden coming of guards,
And I blame you not, for long have near woods lived under the menace of terror,
There is something evil, should one go south,
A poison fostering in the indifference of the most.

It has commenced its deadly advancing,
So that leaves began to wither in silence,
While horrid beasts crawled and slithered beneath our notice,
I suspect there might be more,
As a riddle in the dark which bears ill tidings,
Saw you the guarded ways of this realm?
Sealed it shall remain, with none entering or leaving,
If such is your disrespectful mood,
You can stay here and rot, caged in my gaols,
One hundred years is a mere blink in the life of Immortals and patience never have I fallen short of.

Walküre:
With thy touch them madest thou secure


The Smith was always wary of anyone admiring his craft,
The legend of our days, three great stars, forged by Elven hands,
They harboured memory of supreme note, which is now no more,
They kept the testimony of the Noon, during the spring of our times in the bliss.

The Smith grew proud of his deed, too much for a paradise, blessed and lit,
One there might have been, he thought, who the finest of my art shall dare steal,
Nonetheless, discord was not among the young Firstborns yet, and so he used to show his treasure for the merriment of all,
Thou, our fair Queen, with thy touch them madest thou secure, and any fell hand seeking possession of the Jewels would then be to burn and endure of destiny the terrible curse.

Walküre:
Your oath will be true


Along the many burdens of the journey you may lose faith in the task,
For the purpose is the most contingent in this world, and never has much depended on so few,
Indeed, the road gets perilous and deadly as you are to get closer to the lands of utter wilderness,
It is the path you have set yourselves on, for the sake of what is decent upon this scattered world,
Woes you shall suffer and the worst misfortune is likely to hinder the voyage to hell,
In the midst of ash and venom, treading the ways of the Evil infesting this continent,
War is coming and all will reach, strangle and capture, unless valiant swords are wielded and shields defend the borders of our right,
The right to better our dwellings, enjoy the flavour of freedom and decide which destiny ought to be ours,
May you trust the bonds tying your goal together and we pray that luck you in no way will forsake,
We fear that the unity of your Fellowship shall be broken, soon, while your enemies get bolder and fouler, although the flame will not wear out so easily, provided that your oath is true.

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