Antique Lyrics of Arda

[Walküre]

Towers on the edge


Past those old branches and thick woods,
Past the Shire and its amicable dwellings,
Past the joyful western routes, in which pleasure is still, to travel and journey,
Past the wild regions, loose and odd,
Past the woes and perils, sadly common in recent days,
There is a way that leads beyond worry,
Trodden by companies of silent pilgrims, fair and pious,
Of the immortal kind and they sing songs of old,
Of how the world was merry and bright,
They head to towers on the edge, gazing at the horizon of the western sea.

Whither they go, very few know,
They pass our mortal ways, as though they bore much grief,
But a mournful lot they are not, however,
For pain and toil they leave behind,
And they chant about wishes of happiness, soon to come,
Away from agony and pending demise,
Directed to secretive havens, older than most of current kingdoms,
Whence they are to part,
Journeying through the wavering tides,
Across which ever-green fields await them and divine might.

[Walküre]

DISMAY AND SORROW

Hither shalt thou bring of Arda the sorrow,
Thou dost just for the memory of tomorrow,
And also the woes and wounds of our time, and profound dismay,
Do not dread unjust evil or envy, and may endurance be borne through thy lay.

[Walküre]

Keep the bridge and that ought to suffice


Look further, at the vexed borders of our law,
There are many, in the guise of the beast that is about to roar,
Many who wish death and the sword to draw,
No matter, we shall keep the door.

Soldier, thrown into the perilous waste of war,
It's time to hold the flood back, worsening our fate,
Shall it be fangs or horrid claws? Whatever aims to pass the gate, raging more and more,
In our land of marble we say, that sudden aid is neither ill nor late.

[Walküre]

Fly now, patrol the ether and its walls!


Deeds of legend and foreseen hope,
You have finally made it to the immortal shore,
Mariner, of grand hazard your journey was,
Indeed, hostile tides just had to concede,
Bearing you the light we all long in Aman,
Lost and poisoned by malice,
That jewel has paved the way through obscure routes,
And my spells it has defied,
You need not dread punishment,
The Valar were awaiting your coming here, turning point of destiny.

We are to hearken to your plea,
Aid we shall give to whom is in dire trouble,
The moment is just to end the darkness choking the world,
For the sake of both kinds,
The one who lives in eternity, until Arda will do too,
Black Heart, you shall face fury and mayhem,
You, legend of our times,
Aboard your mighty vessel your mission continues,
I shall give magic to its wooden soul and my spell will drive its colours,
Fly now, patrol the ether and its walls!

[Walküre]

Magic is might and burden


GALADRIEL: Dismay and sorrow I have come to know,
Stain on glory, prowess, fall and triumph,
I drank from the cordial of grief in equal manner,
Sour taste, one that mars and stirs discord,
One that tears good apart and sows evil,
It stole the light of the Eternal Day,
Under whose rays I was born,
Within the sunny country of the Archangels,
This is ancestral lore of Arda, unknown to the most,
The witless mind would lose itself in such mazes, before such portrait.

Choir of Elves: Injustice and menace,
Curses and sins,
Clear from any plague,
In the land of Lórien,
Where naught decays.

G: To the shores of the suffering,
Grey shelter,
Cold harbour for the exiled,
Action was not possible without a toll,
To detach from the bliss,
To disobey divine wisdom,
We had to chase our foe,
Unto the ends of the world,
Retribution we needed and yearned,
My beloved ones, whom in great affection hold, did not last to see the end of the strife.

Choir: Alas, many woes and terrible loss,
She mourned, in centuries,
Borne with unfaltering defiance,
She hopes,
Her they await across the sea.

G: There, I met also love,
Attending the court of a thousand-year kingdom,
Greeted by the Silver Monarch,
One of those princes was to be my fate,
Together, we would go through the tides of the ages,
All was bound to perish, however,
Those jewels of incredible potency,
From whence all had beginning,
Brought about ruin and flames,
To my majestic mentor, of the kind of the Angels from paradise, farewell I bade.

Choir: War of wrath and justice,
The West such plight forsook not,
The emissary spoke at the behest of the two kinds,
A holy host sailed from the realm of the Powers,
Aid was given and for the Iron Crown was tragic epilogue.

G: Malice was not late to return,
One of the devils of the first Dark Lord,
Versed in treachery and illusion,
Minds he trapped in his snare,
A one-time empire crumbled overnight, for the pride emperor longed for the endless life under the heavens of Eä,
The earth was broken and shaped anew,
The nightmare of the tale had crafted artefacts of doom,
Rings of Power to be gifted to each lord and people,
The Eldar were sole and lone, seeing past the demon's true will,
The others understood not, seeking fame and rule, destined to turn into chained slaves.

Choir: For the sake of all,
Three Rings saw light without the atavistic vice,
Secure and sound in the hands of the Wise,
A last alliance was made, to undo the yoke of darkness,
The High King found sad demise and the line of Númenor wept its king.

G: Middle-earth lies not,
At the twilight of the third era,
Much has changed and shadows awaken from unseen pits,
Battle ignites a soil grown used to peace,
It is the closing chapter, as marvel from reality fades and vanishes,
The One Ring was retrieved from water and its master wants his craft back,
The wellness of the Golden Wood might be to cease, be it triumph or defeat,
Pray, may the valour of our bows be enough for the task,
But the shield of Lothlórien is me and I am its walls, not willing to give our green temple away,
Fool adversary, magic is might, and should you try to play with the arcane arts, I shall give minstrels much to sing about in epic lays.

[Walküre]

Blade of sun and moon


Blade of sun and moon,
Iron of prestige, to ruin immune,
Thou wast there, to avail the deed of the king,
Loyal among the western kind of Men, set to face the Tyrant and his Ring.

The faithful lord fell and his body was broken,
None seemed apt to contest the Evil and its malicious token,
Until the royal son stepped forth, wielded thy shards and fought,
And the foul hand was then hewn and the ancient prowess wore out, at the end of wit and thought.

[Walküre]

Two Bastions


Two Bastions thou hast raised, my Queen, during order and symmetry,
Being the world another thing, resembling a forgotten dream,
After many wars of the prologue, all was charmed as blessed home for the Powers and their holy gentry,
Stars were not enough to gift light to your creations, thence ye commanded Two Bastions be built at the edges of the old earth, lest the tale were dim.

It was not to last,
What was in the past,
Beauty was turned into dust,
And chaos, which the Ainur mend and heal must.

[Walküre]

In the name of the knight


The king of Rohan has been woken from treacherous sleep. He laments the troubles and worrying turmoil that his realm had to undergo, promising to give just retribution to those who worked for his subjugation, albeit them bearing the name of honourable knights.

Be gone from my halls, forked tongue,
Vile spirit as your deceiving advice,
Words of deceit, whispered and told,
Lies, spiteful hatred for a weakened ruler,
But weakened I was not, in truth,
For it was not illness which bent my will,
Reduced me into the manners of harmless beasts,
Forced to crawl and stagger,
So that the throne was made a gaol,
Within my golden halls, gem of noble forebears.

I saw not, I felt not, I did not,
Chained and trapped on my very seat,
While the green and fine of my country was set on fire and ravaged, laid waste and torn,
As the White Hand was to hold dominion on such forsaken lands,
Hay and farms burnt,
Suffering incessant cold rain, havoc and slaughter were our enemy's ruthless aim,
Such nasty ranks would not have advanced that much, had my foes had not some traitorous pawns at disposal,
Those who bear the glorious name of knights,
Impious and worst kind of subjects, who seek to hinder one's good,
Once flames will have been tamed, they shall be given the just and due.

Beside agony and sham riders,
In my absence, many grievous things,
My son has passed,
Fallen in the midst of the storm,
How could fate be cruel?
Which father survives his kin, if not the sorrowful one?
His sole memory I have left,
Mourning now on his tomb,
Covered by white that harms not nor makes us wail,
Resounding archaic chants of desperation.

[Walküre]

Thou art despised, alas


Thou art despised, alas, by the creatures of the night,
Which do naught good or right,
In a world that groweth weak,
As forests of thorns get menacing and thick.

So that light may not pass,
To lighten merry leaves or grass,
Lair of fangs and wicked eyes,
Entering such woods is neither brave nor wise.

Some gaze not with faith at the sky,
Bound to hatred and lie,
Abandoning the just path,
The greatest harm it doth.

This world thou hast made lit,
Varda, queen of the firmament and immense wit,
And if the Evil is to hinder thy will through fire and blaze,
Remember thou our worship and utmost praise.

[Walküre]

Fine tunes in the Shire


Here, enjoying life and tasting what is good in our land,
With the company of great friends,
Grateful we are for our gifts,
Which are not gold, coins, gems or precious stone,
But the fruits of the earth,
For which we much labour and strive,
Under pouring sky or awful heat,
Ordering the ground and digging deep,
Or taking care of our lovely green,
Which the sun nurtures and blesses.

To the tavern we now head,
To celebrate joy and amicable parties,
Feast of merriment and buoyant mood,
Saluting the other and telling stories of old,
While someone prefers the lonesomeness of their thoughts,
As the one I am speaking of,
Intrepid traveller and explorer of the unknown,
Much glory he got, after a perilous quest, accompanied by a queer lot of Dwarves,
Many riches he has now, as deserved reward,
And a red book he seems to be writing for the newer generation to know.

Enough with the noise,
We should leave him alone,
For he's fond of calmness and not of trouble,
Nostalgia perhaps guides his hand,
Filling each page with his longing for adventure,
What we lack here, within the wooden fences of ours,
He seeks what cannot come hither,
I fear, darker thoughts might be haunting his sleep,
Stuck in impetuous memory,
We wish him well and sound.

[Walküre]

In the name of the maiden


In the name of the maiden,
Fair as a pale morning of winter,
Used to harsh life and sorrow,
At the court of a decaying rule,
Serving a king burdened by magic,
In the grave hour of mayhem,
Ajar is the door, for woes to come,
Shall she draw her sword and fight?
Courage she never fell short of,
Hazard she faces directly and with no remorse.

Three heroes came to her royal home,
Guided by a wizard, white as clear snow,
Willing to free the monarch from the yoke,
So that Rohan had one last chance,
To withstand the oncoming storm,
Before it was too late to act,
For the common good and sake,
She was there, to comfort the fearful ones,
Expecting death to be near,
After the walls of the Deep were torn apart.

Nay, her realm asunder was not mauled,
For light broke through the rain and signalled that victory was theirs,
The vicious enemy lost,
Along with his fume-choked mansion,
Cleansed by furious roots and raging water,
The Horse Lords could then breathe fresh air and take a sigh of relief,
Partying for the triumph and honouring those who no longer were,
Yet, the tale was not to end that way,
When the marble-realm asked for the aid of the fast riders of the heath,
Surrounded by horrid devils and risking ruin.

You, maiden, rode and did go thither,
Whither the decent would have headed too,
Disobeying the command of the king,
For a just cause,
Before the gates of the City, of incredible deeds you were author,
To battle in the name of good and kind-hearted valour,
Agony you went through and unspeakable pain,
Necessary was that evil, though, in order to succeed,
A ghoulish lord of wraiths was vanquished and parted from his miserable robes,
Even in the dreary day, you never have failed.

[Walküre]

We shall reach thy light


Thee we think about and honour,
Towards the western gales we set the colour,
Of the vessel which passeth the sea,
Heading to the westernmost West, we,
Our queen, are set to journey before the morning,
We leave back a weary world, and thus we followed thy warning,
That Immortals will find it harder,
Amidst decay, gloomy days and murder,
For the Black Heart of night is ever awake,
To hold dominion of love, raid and the bastions of noble realms to quake.

Varda, fairest vision of all, thou dost prodigy and miracle that in centuries is to be told.

[Walküre]

200 lives of Men


For 200 lives of Men, I wandered and voyaged across this scattered land,
With many names they hail me,
Only a couple of them are really known,
It began on the shores of the western coast,
Where a great power still lingers, to the most unbeknownst,
Setting foot on a continent that was in dire need,
Of help, of outer aid, lest the hour were made grave,
Appointed to a mission of imperative importance,
For the Evil had to be countered in proper manners,
But not via direct clash, in confrontation of sheer magic.

The utmost decree forbade that,
As the Good should find its own strength,
And so the emissaries of light were more guides, rather than mighty lords,
Fond of giving advice to whom was apt to care,
Instead of ruling via the menace of a blade,
Or the usage of our great skills to sway people towards our side,
We are better into guarding the edges of this world,
Giving words of wisdom to the ones in worrying trouble,
Deemed weak and old, our bodies do not suffer toil as the common man,
And we age not as well, being busy with the grandest duty.

At my coming,
Peace there was not,
Albeit the Enemy having been placated,
Malicious seeds had been sown,
To prepare the return of shadow,
Where merriment should have been secured,
But wicked cold came,
And thick ice and snow,
Alongside unrest from the furthest South,
Signs that it was to bode ill, and the door open to fear again would be.

[Walküre]

You shall not

You shall not cover the bright,
What is holy and bathes in light,
Through a disgraceful path shall you carry your flesh,
With no time to repent or rest,
Pity you have lost the right to be given,
Due to woe that was your deed, due to the shadow arisen,
You are to tread the ways of hatred, caught by doubt and fear,
Stirring ignominious thoughts, making usage of sham parlance or smear,
Fallen among our mighty kind,
Your iniquity shall be wise words and noble lays, to rekindle hearts to justice and teach the mind.

[Walküre]

The wailing mother


I behold the earth and cry,
Arda and its treasures,
No measure of common sort,
It was the home of all,
Crafted and thought, afar and out of the Void,
To be the harbour of joy,
This they had gladly envisaged,
The singing ranks of Angels,
Before the One, Keeper of the Flame,
Which everyone has and none may claim.

She resembles a wailing mother,
Mourning the ill-fated course of events,
That led to grief and remorse,
A symmetry, then lost,
A perfect order, destined to sink,
In the ocean of sorrow,
The Children would not find a warm shelter,
To welcome their coming into being,
Only the night of darkness,
Eased by lamps of hope, raised in love and potency.