Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Before the one-time innocent gaze,Trapped in vendetta's inextricable maze,Lies a horrid red tide,Tainting the Harbour of Swans, festering wide,Lone corpses float and sink in the livid waves,Struck by carnage, about to grow furious in sudden blaze,Ossë, Storm-lord whom we pray,Thee invoke we, to provide justness in this vile lay,Thou, cast thy tempest upon the faithless brethren,For the woes of the cursed, for the grimmest future to threaten.
Shock and thunder, unto the very root of the earth,Signs of the last clash of all, for the sake of all which fighting is verily worth,Sudden clamour from above, I sense,Fire hath reached the vast halls of the sky, fiend-like and dense,Then, a flying demon fell, whose ruin upon the volcano was smitten,War was won, freeing our wailing lands, sorrow-ridden,The Iron Gates bowed and broke before thee, celestial commander,Chants of victory descend into the hopeless gaol of this age, and ever throughout those woeful pits they meander,Friendly hands liberate the exhausted prison of my soul, reviving the spirit that my heart woke,Undoing malevolent chains, vanquished heirlooms of this broken yoke.
When the road gets tough and dim,Despair not and send away any thought grim,Find your very strength anew,As braveness in the old days that flew,Though nothing grows tired in this our Shire,In front of tasty beer and a kind warm fire,Whose embers might perhaps comfort the doubtful,After fine delicacies and a sufficient mouthful.
Please, beg I thee, to disclose such tale of old,Which minstrels fancy to adorn with words and jesters love to mould,In the manner they believe proper and just,Nay, thou wilt not fail the task.It were a pleasure to hearken to the Jewels' own fate,Cause of hell and despair to many folks of late,It ended not well, as it in fact beginneth,The prideful sire crieth triumph, his son about the shore mourneth.The impious theft in the realm of joy,Atavistic sin of all, whence only evil came to annoy,Wars we fought, a whole continent fell,Those gems owed to the elements eventually were, whose souls now keep them and perpetually shall.
Tell me, why should you be sorry?You've come to this our green home, clear from angst and worry,Afar, there dwell strange folks, cursing both the cold high and the torrid low,Lands not apt for the birth of good, to build warm houses and sow,Wanderer, may you find peace among this buoyant lot,Not very interested are we in the 'where' or 'what',Rest well behind this meagre wooden fence,We would your memory were fond, once you will have parted hence.
Is there still hope for our quest?This I may not say with certainty, my fond friend,Your breed is rare in this world grown chill and weary,Hobbits somehow resist this voluble course of time,Withstanding violence, brutal kingship and many wars,That rage in the hazardous East,So blow the fell winds of clash from these very ends,The temple of Men is giving in to a newly-awakened night,If our mission is to be of no avail,Its result won't be other than disastrous ruin.Heinous acts call for worse and worse,This is the vicious cycle plaguing the world,At the grim sunset of the age, illness has spread wide and also unnoticed,Not detected by wise eyes, shadows have been granted the entrance again,Crawling, creeping hence and thence,The Black Land is not simply conjuring mere Orcs for the pending showdown,Past enemies of yore come forth from the ignorance of common knowledge,Storms of ashes arise from his forsaken realm,Behold, that is no natural weather but the wicked magic of our adversary,Clouds are rounding the White City, for a last grievous siege to be commenced.
There must be a way,To bid farewell to grief,And, wherefore, to hail the sunny day,Which warms any tree and leaf.A way, for the Good's sake,To prevent the saddest doom,Shall valiant Men freedom wake?Against the odds that afar loom.Afar, beyond that dark curtain,Of smoke and venom within the Black Land,Fear we must stay, we're certain,Defeat we cannot mend.Not this time, not this age,This last chance of ours,As the keepers of night terrible war wage,Tragedy may still come, so shall of triumph the hours.
There, look what the kind Hobbit has made,Firm hand and swift blade,Just to cook and please one's wish,Most delicious and tasty dish.Woods were generous, indeed!Let the fine odour you lead,Good venison is served, from deer that ever run free and roam,May we cherish such finery and bless this home.
Peradventure wast thou told of the magnificent deeds of a one-time splendid sire,Who became much glory and exciting songs of yore,Aye, one of the Princes,Crowned, then, High King and prime commander among the Noldor's ranks,Kin of finest descent, he did wield the sword and met unlucky demise, in the likes of his gallant father,For a duel took place in the midst of the crude battle,Swarming legions of hell were never enough to bend whom the Two Trees had kissed with potency,Potent was he, and mighty and otherworldly strong,Alas, very little doth such a thought comfort thy troubled mind,His foe was no earthly creature, in fact, but a monstrous ensemble vomited out of hatred and fell fire.
The passage is shut,So say folks, and the road likewise cut,Once a wealthy shire,Kept by stone and the resilient sire.Amassed in such maze of halls,Within fortresses and thick walls,There lay the treasure of Dwarf-kings,The jester recalls the tale and justly sings.Of the ill befallen,Torn tapestry, sewn and woollen,Scarce would it avail your quest,The adventure inside this gloomy web, as much perilous test.What dwells within ought not to be woken,Forswear your will and leave the mines, cursed and broken,Should fire creep out from the abyss of the world,Shields would serve nought and equally one's sharp sword.
The day shall come, my Queen,An ultimate spark of bliss will mortals have seen,Upon a star-white steed,Her immaculate way will she lead.Afar, her as a bright rider lesser ones shall perhaps disguise,The mightiest lady of this age, pure beyond measure and wise,Her hour is coming, soon,To bid farewell to these shores and her last worldly moon.
Thee supreme we hail,Thee shall we ever honour and never wail,Thee we hold in our heart,Thee invoke we when we are to part.Thou, never leave thy loyal servants alone,Thou, do not let the beggar weep or moan,Thou, shield the right and drive shadows away,Thou, bless us and soothe the hardest day.
Please, pardon, sing for me joy,That's what is yearned, by every girl and boy,Doesn't it suffice, fatigue and much strain?The Hobbit has laboured restless, drained by the heat of noon in the main.Please, sing of peace and silly evenings,When all rejoice at the warmth of the tavern, faithful friends and siblings,Aye, a good story to jest about,Nothing else but a merry night, without demise or sad rout.
We shall rescue thee,My fine wood, home to the small and wee,Grief hath taken possession of thy one-time lively heart,Struck thou wast, with a vile poisoned dart.Misery-stricken, I would thou sawest the end of strife,Fiends will never conquer life,Greenwood, stained and violated, may thou see light anew,A scouring of the plague, this need we, as it's just and due.
Beware, sires and squires,Folks of common, driven by desires,Not recommended is it to take that path,Through the golden woods, daring unworldly wrath.Magic resides there, so they tell,Not good for our people, neither ill nor well,Who rules the haunted forest, which prodigy of yore?Just murmurs, a far ancient lore.Spirits and ghosts walk the ways in such eerie green,No fortress to conquer, no battle to win,Nay, stay your blade and rest still,Naught may move who commands there with stout will.They speak of a witch, potent in power and charm,Will she mean benevolence or harm?A queen that dies not, a legend in the bard's lay,A fey maiden, lady of a yester-day.