Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Peril came and got in,Such that Hobbits were not to win.Hoofs passed the outer hedge,In cruel pursuit and deadly pledge.What might seek the fiendish knight?What covets most the revenant wight?Intruding inside happy green,Sowing terror in the Unseen.Bidden was the vile riderTo search across, stern and wider;Carrying hatred by wicked spellThat renders all so bad and fell.Not mere ghosts from silly jest,But mighty foes few could bestIn sword-contest or battleWhere guilt they fix and settle.Paths are not secure,Should you not endureThat ardent wish to chaseUnto ash-wasted ways.
He's Master of wood and hillWhere is no waste or chill,Outside the aged forestHe deems his lands the dearest.The Eldest among the living,Afore the Children's own conceiving;Prior to the bright Lords,Preceding wars, battles and swords.One day he met his lovely Maiden,Woken brooks with flowers laden.A gentle dweller of water,Whom fain we hail "the River-Daughter".King and queen of green domainFearing none, fancying rain.The angry Willow shall stay his wrath,For Jolly Tom is free to tread the path.Along the tops of haunted moundsOne harks bewailing and shrieking sounds,For a wicked Fiend resides in graves,Until the Master dares such spook and stranger saves.
He gave them sevenInside stone-hall,At the behest of heavenInto the mountain wall.Ruin befell king and sireDooming houses to burn,Awaking ghoulish fireWhich roared loud and stern.Fine tokens beseemedThe much fabled Rings;Evil dug and schemed,Unearthing flames and wings.Artefacts of potent useWhich bend fate and will,Forecasting rue and bluesUnder rocks and grinding chill.Seven portents that never caughtOf gallant dwarf the wit,Stirring thenceforth blazing draughtFrom within the darkest pit.
'Tis a testament for you,My dear one.A letter sent throughAmong mage and man.Hereby I confessThat toiled am I for real,But events also blessWho wills to sign a deal.A deal have I underwritten,Which brought the humble far,Into adventure smitten,Leaving the door ajar.Three brute trolls were not enoughTo hinder us and scare;Though the road was rough,Defied have we the journey's wear.Grand battle I then foughtBeside valiant host and beast,Ending up distraughtFor woeful loss and bloody feast.
Under boughs of young age,Recalled in history by sage,Stood a singing maidWho used in ancient stream to wade.Deathless as the eternal starWhose fairness nought may mar.Bright stone of a tainted world,Hewn from purity and gold.Joy to her king and queen,Rulers of ways amidst greenAnd deep cavern beneath the earth,Where reigned remembrances of mirth.Untrodden paths she set alightDispelling anguish and fright.Alongside reeds she foundOne to whom she would be bound.Side by side in speed and ruin,Her song of demons was great undoing.Piping fowls shall tellHow gentile vanquished fell.
Hurry, rapid stainless knight!In pure glimmering whiteYou ride to pass the fordWithin the sight of mighty lord.Ghouls pursue the Ruling RingWhich harpers loathe and seldom singWithout mourning such impetuous tide,That tore the world and its gentle side.What was of the prosperous West,Between loud waves and mountain crest?Lie now but ruined remains,Of grandness signs amid dark lanes.Hasten, bright sire!We deem it much direTo take the bearer in,Where lasting home avoids great sin.The Half-Elven is versed in healing.Bathe such dales in happy feeling,And fears melt away as ice in summer,And lights grow not by grace so dimmer.
A world we shall thus leaveIn sweet autumn eve,When winds patter treesAnd furtive fox then quickly flees.An ending era we promptly hailAs just conclusion of the taleWhich buoyant bards had told of old,When holy jewels were not of gold.Years may faint and weary,Days may go so dreary.Stars shall never pale in doubt,For every shade they clear and rout.Immortals hearken to wise word,Renouncing vanity and sword,And therefore yield fort and earldomFor the final reaching of the Eternal Kingdom.Thither they are to fare,Where is no grieving wear.Cheerful lies ahead the undying shore,Secured by Lords that came afore.
Was the advent of nightSo sudden and swift,Commencing storm and plightThat leave the ship adrift.A nefarious ghost aroseOver the guard of Men,Strong of blades and bowsTo keep the wolves' den.The beast, alas, returned.Eves grew black and frightful.This the Enemy had yearnedTo mar the kingdom so delightful.His Dark Fortress he built anew.Fires stir again and shadow beckon.His servants plan revenge and slewTribes and folks beyond good reckon.Lights subside and vanish out.Gloom gets instead much thicker,But in the White City standing stoutFacing foes that gather quicker.
Warbling birds mark the dayOf happy breeze and fond sun-rayUpon green pastures and silent glades,While the tiny fox in water wades.No trace of sadness we ever sense.Sullen skies winds will cleanse.Warmth embraces this jolly country,Blessing its ways and kind good gentry.May we never partFrom joyous field and morning start.May we never wailWinter's coming and cruel hail.I shall hence sing a tune of bliss,Praying naught of great will run amiss.I shall wherefore beg to see new climes,Lesser not than those I set so fain in rhymes.I fancy the mild Hobbit would likeA quiet walk along the dyke,Resting ever within the end,For perils crawl abroad and gentle hearts might rend.
O fowl soaring,May you head afarFrom foul storm roaring,Overcasting sky and star.O strong boreal gale,Fly and blow much deep!Your winds shall rid the daleOf sombre cry and weep.Tiny singer on feeble wing,Do not wane alone or swoonBefore fang and stingRoaming loose beneath the moon.Breath of howling air,Send relief to the troubled South;Thereto shall you fareTo hammer foes and hit the uncouth.Men will see merrier daysTo live and fill with mirth,When telling Gondor's laysAnd of gallant kings the birth.
Part of Elrond's cheerful house,Past barrows, hills and brows,Is a hall of olden loreWhere sages sing what passed afore.Gathered beside the fireStands no shameless liar,For tales are told in ancient tongueAnd harps in guile are never wrung.Elven minstrels muse on grief,Being of yore-events the chief.Songs of sorrow are calmly spokenWhich call for caution and gloom foretoken.Valiant heroes are brought to life,Whose grim memory and strifeWe honour well and truly fainWithin the stainless fair domain.Prayers invoke the holy PowerThat yonder dwells behind his tower,Whither suns are due to westerTo flee the woes which grossly fester.
Western winds across,May ye lead my prow well pastSuch mounting strife and loss,Carrying yonder oar and mast.Lead me thither, beyond wan seas,Through livid tides and raging weather.Lead me thither, borne on breeze,Passing waves, high and nether.Sail, my dear white vesselWhither mortal storms will hush,For on deathless strand was set a castleWhich nought of ill might ever crush.There lieth marvel of age-long sort,Sprung in the Day afore days and lore.Mighty halls and unsullied fortRaised and blessed on the immortal shore.Antique Occident, such thy Rulers thee renderTo resist wear and pending doom;Champions of virtue and wrights of wonder,Who fairness drew from Arda's womb.
Monstrous minions have been sentFor heinous murder meant,At the behest of night,Bestirring so such dread and fright.At their passing spring recedes.Freeze in instant dew and beads.Robins stay and hover still,Stunned in fear and sudden chill.Yeomen bolt amok or start,Rent in depth and stung at heart.Light thoughts then fade awayAnd darkens bleak the jolly day.Ghoulish serfs are they for real;Long ago was made the dealThat binds the wraith to ruthless will,Bidden then to chase and kill.Wights were once renowned lords,Trusted much in acts and words,Until nine heirlooms they were givenBy cunning hand from the Uneven.
Hear bells tolling trouble.Hear dread consuming marble.A black host is to advanceAnd begin of rueful death the dance.Grievous sighs climb and swatheOnto ramparts, wont to batheIn radiant rays of full content,As kings decreed and valour meant.Strong southern bastion,It is no doubt or questionThat vicious foes you fightFrom lowest gate to imposing height.Demons seek dismay to sow;Darkly colours go in rowAnd sail ahead to plunder ports,Since guards no longer man their forts.Walls might not resist the storm.Evil takes so foul a form.Desirous is the beast of tearsIn tragic tell of ancient seers.
Ring the bell, gatekeeper!Came the intruding sneaky sweeperInside wood-fences and quiet town,To pierce one's heart and drag it down.Phantoms we too have heard;Beasts have screeched and fled the birdBefore such fiendish stranger,Like fatal mare of ranger.Bidden to search and seek,For great scorn of harmless weak,Something dear to darkling willsWhich folly stirs by eerie thrills.Shadows fall upon the roofs.Closer draw some running hoofs,Willing much to claim their preyPast tended fields and sun-dried hay.Foes and ghouls have broken in!Likeness none could ever win.Passing plains and country brooks,Thence rode in haste these vicious spooks.