Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
My, spring has come so sudden!Relieved will be the heavy burdenPlying the gentle with fatigue,Who deems it well to work in league.My, sun rises up and shades dispels!Morning starts and toll the bellsFor the jocund season to commence,When only fools would part from hence.Stupendous thoughts glide and billow,And nourish much the saddened willow;Acorn, sloe and berry,To please one's taste and make them merry.Gaze, foaled is day and happy dawn!Of sorrows souls are thusly shorn.Tilling soil in gleeIs very bliss of field and tree.Abroad nights beseem to stretchOn worsted lonely wretch.Yet wont we aren't to foreign ill,Relying sole on fine home-skill.
On hither-strands of yoreLanded prince and noble dame.Stained by guilt and goreForeboding clash and bloody game.Evil chose the North as seatIn carven gaol and hopeless pit.Cold wound coarse along the heat,Where chains would grip to kill one's wit.Green and joy lay hiddenIn happy sheer plains;Leaves by dirt were never riddenNigh hallowed sylvan lanes.Near the virgin shoreAwaited mariners and ship,And able wrights of oarRevering great the ocean's deep.Waters howl and foam.Uncanny fog was laid on waves.Devils wake from death and roamGritted dying caves.
By the coast we lieIn wistful thought and sigh,Recalling what had happened once;Gazing far in writhing glance.Loth are we to tellElder foes and wicked spell.Prone are we to joyous taleIn days of bright and westward sail.Homeward steer ships againAlong the course of olden ken,For a Straight Way carries us acrossPast chilling winds that stray and toss.Others tarry still on shores,Afar and sound from roaring wars.Some thus delay their mounting needTo yield at last to Elvish creed.Aye, still shall remain the anchor.Nay, we shan't succumb to rancour.Grey ports rest secure,Watched by guardian sage and pure.
Are you to venture thither?Know that meadows sadly witherAlong the torrid routes of heat;No pleasant lush, no golden wheat.Thirst and famine blunt one's force,Sagging vigour for the worse,Should you find yourself astrayAs unwanted guest on untrodden way.Scorching climes do the rest:Horrid foe you cannot bestIs ardent weather and broad waste,Trudging through in frantic haste.Incandescent realm of peril,Has your crimson russet berylBeen the craving of the VileWho stomped his enemies with guile.Aligned you are with foul.Dreading fiery piercing scowl.Tribes proclaim their fearsome victor,Bidding serfdom to the sceptre.
It ill behoves one to tellThis mournful tale of old,Meeting sudden hellBy untidy marsh and cold.So found his end a prince,Who jousted brave and proud,By fangs that grind and minceNeath dreary sky and cloud.Around his neck was laid a spoil,Conquered hard in duel,Taking toll and toilOn soul ensnared by jewel.Bereaved Men recountHis sad and deathly storyBegetting fiends that mountIn darkly mode and fury.Flawless gold then hid,Belying doom ahead,Malicious vow and bidAwaking ghostly dead.
Very keen were siresOn lighting glede and pyresInside the empty mineWhere Dwarven-kings would dine.Masons graved sundry gems,Delving deep in rocky hems.A will would kindle hearts to yearning,Ignoring menace and daring warning.Precious hoard was wroughtOf treasures great beyond one's thought,Hewn and moulded wellAs fables oft are hence to tell.Leastways strangers so recallWhat was such province to befall.Deceits had beckoned endless greed,Spurring lords to eager deed.Carven halls now lie forlorn,Void of hope and wholly worn.Flames have surged from the Under,Rending lives thenceforth asunder.
I sojourn there and find my shelterWithin the bright merry gully;Along the vale I'm not to falter,Clutched by sweeping fright and folly.Elves abide of oldIn glad fashion still,Healing woes to unfold,For fields they cure and till.Passing through the loud fordIs never chance of wicked guild,As not relents the deathless lordWho sinless fortress was to build.Kind and wholesome as is summerStands a keeper fond of guest.Hover fowls across and yammerPleasant tune to cheer the West.Bereft of labour lodge the folksThat happen thither so to head,Seeking much to break the yokesBinding wretches to their dread.
Over forsaken moors in wildTower peaks that all beguiledInto deeming cliffs fairly openTo likely chance well to ripen.Red ravines and steep dellShall the lonesome bard tell.Snow and slush lie in driftWhich chilling airs heave and lift.Climbing ones must be awareOf pending dangers they are to dare,For the olden mount harbours wrathTo bar the way and seal its path.Fell voices augur ill;Winds bite the stone with chill.Deadly boulders mounts have flungAmid some blizzards few have sung.Storms are roused to breathe demiseUpon cold vales that fall and rise.The Cruel Mountain is gleaming red,Wont to hammer hope in shred.
How may peasants hinderMany plotted schemes,As finest men astray meander,About the blighted rims?Contrived were plans inside the TowerTo set the world aflame,So must we rid and scourThe lonely heathland of its name.Rohan will exist no more!Choked by fumes and smoke,Shall the realm burn to core,Tamed at last and bound in yoke.Bondage is one fate of griefUnder the Wizard's rule,Who was of mages chief,Versed in ken, stars and tool.Go, my Orcs! Go, my devils!Raze hay-towns to sheer ground!Steel is creed of scores of evils,Which lay the horse-king in his mound.
Carven halls would once rejoiceAt prideful sire and his voice,Warming caves and lighting firesAlong deep mines and mountain squires.Cloven houses lay forbidden,Of foreign sorrows gladly ridden.Hammers fell to mould hard stone,And Dwarves would thrive so fain alone.Elves in near kingdom dweltWhere silver was so apt to smelt,Crafting gems of ancient PowerTo bend their fates and cheer the sour.Hewn was hall and mighty chamberResting dull and dark and sombre,For fearsome gloom had taken allIn gruesome clutch and evil's thrall.Yester-roads have grown uncouth,Roamed by fangs and hungry mouth.Waters broke across and spread,Hiding snares that stir much dread.
Of scanty trust we're ever full,Ploughing soil through calf and bull.We till and seed on jolly days,As sun is high to light the ways.Green brow and country-knollWelcome one without the tollOf blithely passing our lanes;So comes the guest at autumn rains.Hobbit-eye they won't bewitch;Foreign records oft we ditch,For dreary stories do belong to impervious landsWhither fools would go and meet the sands.Nay, we may not live by the time,Abreast of tidings or noble rhyme.We rather dwell in peace and joy,Clear of scheme and nasty ploy.The sole Wizard we gladly greet,Who chose these homes as frequent seat.His pointy hat betokens newsOf distant kings that win or lose.
Told in dread is the drake,Wont to infest and gold unmake.His breathing fire blunts the stoneOf Dwarven kingdom to its bone.Alas, ill has run the course of time;Stained were halls with blood and crime.Avarice dug so fierce inside,For gentle wit to turn most snide.Into the chasm fates have leapt.Mourned were kings and dames long wept.Amiable bonds retreat to dullness,Whence derives in truth no fondness.Clothed in scales are lethal serpents,Foreseen afore as devil-portents.Portend they therefore furious blastWhich is the gate down to cast.One resides so proud in glory,And jesters fear to sing his story.He slumbers lone through dismal wealthThat dwarf-lords weighed much worth their health.
Of glaring bright shone the starAmid the tides that foamed afar,Within the rule of the Isle-kingdomWhich seas commanded proud as fiefdom.Vessels went and came in row;Waters weren't to halt their flow,For blues would carry Men beyondTo form with lesser kinds a bond.Ties they also had with ElvesOf whom they envied lives and selves.Days were glad and fortunes broughtWhen witless lands with law were fraught.Crowned were mighty kings of oldOn the Island away from cold,And safe as well from blazing heat,Nigh the unsullied Power's seat.Marine routes they rightly ruledUntil grand lords were gravely fooled.A wave they tried to tame in vain,As Ulmo thus reclaimed his reign.Oceans stirred afoul and swept.Stormy heavens howled and wept.Nought was there to avert such fateTill godly ire was that sate.Mourn we wherefore the grievous Westernesse.None should dare of yore the holinessWhich once would lie utter-yonder,Where Angels then abode in wonder.
Solemn works they then commenced.Was their kingdom never fenced,For joy and faith were welcome token,Ere had smiths such evil woken.Crafters were so keen to makeSplendid gems for Arda's sake;Stones were sited in precious gold,Thought to aid the fates to unfold.By cunning mind they were deceived.Many sorrows they had once grieved.Willed was Elf and Dwarf to mendWounds which ever ages rend.Marvel done and lords content,Greatly noble seemed the intent.Future deeds would prove them wrong,Bewailing Elves and Dwarves in song.Holly grew and climbed the riffsThat thenceforth bathed in grudge and griefs.Mountain-doors were shut to encumberSwathing gloom and mounting sombre.
It shall pass, you may be sure.It shall end, waned to core.Vicious climes leave the wayOf enslaving long affray.Rain and fogs give inTo hardly-conquered win,Spelling ill for ShadowOn the appalling lurid meadow.Grave were lands dismembered.Folks had lonely wanderedOn the verge of utter ruinDue to Morgoth's heinous doing.Wounds shall fully mend;Foes are not to wendTheir devious way beyondThis our endless bond.The Hither-Lands are goneAnd Elven-kings no longer donTheir iron-graven coat,While sailing hence on boat.