Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Shalt thou follow on abroad?Will the Hobbit draw the swordTo vanquish foe and Orc,Eating not his salty pork?Home comforts thou wilt miss,Once afar from nature's bliss.Friendly visage turneth grim,There where eves lands bedim.A sturdy Dwarf shall guide thee soundAlong the countries lying aroundAll perils plotted thus,To stray away and make a fuss.And again a crafty WizardTo serve thee well in wrathful blizzard,As the skies red in angerAnd betoken gruesome danger.Roads have darkened very bleak,Not for swoon, faint or weak.Yet the quest might with ken endow;If thou goest. Shalt so thou?
No riches, no treasure.Shall his greed find a measure?In the crevice of follyWill the King be smitten wholly?Crows forsook the Lonely Mount,As wealth was soon beyond the countOf plenty gold therein,Stowed in haste so deep within.Shadows grew much dense and long;Lonesome realm, bereft of song.A heavy crown to bear,Until the Hall was all a flare.On horrid wings he came,Drawn by gems and envied fame.Such plight! Such bane! Such omen!Then mischief was grossly woven.Roaring strike at the gate.Remorse was vain and very late.Nay, not storing luck to light the dullness,But hoarding sickly twisted madness!
Long have you stridden wide,From forest-mere to mountain side,For errands were your utmost dutyAcross so glinting earthly beauty.Rues and toils have burdened roads;Of creeping perils you encountered loads.Novel tidings you had to bearAnd even get whereto you'd fare.A hat. A staff. A very welcome mage;One dear to folks, one loth to rage.Indeed, power dwelt in ardent spirit,Bidden kind to pass the limit.Limits binding poor to chain.Storms compelling evil rain.Intent some hope in hearts to bring,He lit some souls with scarlet Ring.An ode I am to send,Where deeds with sorrows blend.To the Wanderer! To the Guest!To the twilit danger-quest!
What brings of blithe, this deathly season?Dead as much as seems due reason.Winds commence their tortuous route;Grand malaise, one can't refute.The dreary dormant North,Wherefrom gales sally forth.Peaceful lives, beware!Ice is vile and ruthless snare.Upon the frost was set a spell,Into cave and haunted dell,Which stirs anew the sleeping wight;So was brought the marring blight!To fear. To dread.Tear is seldom gladly shed.Tempers cool, minds get sore,There where cold is evermore.North! O shattered land!Tales would be so scarcely bland.Few might speak much truer wordOn wicked Winter and its sword.
Rescue me from illAnd stifling bitter chill.When gritty clouds rise up above,You shall come and bring me love.I fain meander to and fro,Roving broad, nether low.Hover then some sullen skies:Dawn gets grey and morning dies.Nay! We fancy not to gazeAt lovely blue beset by haze.Save me, gentle sweeping gale;You, I swear, I'm not to fail.Shrill are brooks which shout and cry,Flooding soil that had been dry,And jutting rays come fore to cleanseMischievous airs, routed hence.Shall the Hobbit dwell content?Benighted lads outside once went,Reporting odds that fears create;Preserve us fine, my lucky fate.
I vow to standUnto the land,Where ash and smokeThe mountain woke.I vow to battleAnd quarrels settleAmong the MenOf coast and glen.I vow to stayIn glorious lay,Whereat we hailAs wondrous tale.The Black acrossIs wrenching lossFor any soulFrom marble Hall.Fires flowAnd embers glowYon aheadIn vale of dread.
Ruin and utter doom!Here is in truth no roomFor other crowns to reignWithin my own domain.Aye, my own land it is!Spare me fearful pleas,For ruth is much akinTo utter coward sin.Before my throne you came,Fully spent and tame;You implore to have my reason,Fleeing bars and lonely prison.Stay your wicked word,Cunning mighty lord.Tenfold mightier sure am I,Grandly strong and slow to die.You shall follow me in chainsAway from plots and earthly banes.A gaoled of Númenor, at my will,Caught and bound and ever-still.
Seldom have we toldThe grievous lay of goldWhich once was lit aglowBy ardent flaming flow.Seldom was the aidOf Dwarven-crafted bladeTo triumph over ghouls,Immune to arms and tools.Seldom do we speakWithin the frozen peakOf how declined the courtIn such a mournful sort.Seldom has a tokenMerry kingdoms broken,Unless it were of guileIn perilous fore-while.Seldom shall we singThe magic precious RingWhich beckoned naught but fire,And slew, alas, the sire.
I fancy we might tryTo venture deep and sly,For bad this land befellAcross this merry dell.Fumes we see ariseIn darkling scary guiseAbove the Hobbit's hole,And tainting trees' bole.May ill have not occurred!Hazed is air and thickly blurred.Someone took control along;To the Shire we belong.While we strove much abroad,Carrying shield and drawing sword,Malice turned its gaze afar,Sneering west at Evening Star.A queer beggar thenceforth sitsAs sordid master of his wits;Foul strangers ought to bolt,Ere justness calls revolt.
I saw the world fadeAbove the ailing glade,Inside the sickened greenOf murky bark and being.Reeds have slept in fear;Devious grew the mere.Woods are ill and lame,Bearing spooky fame.Nights lie not in gloomAnd Lamps renew the bloomOf young benighted flowerUpon a cheerless bower.Beheld have I the skyIn wearisome long sigh,Craving sheer LightAmid the present blight.Dusk has paled awayTo sacred starlit ray.The Ever-Fair I seeAtop the gleeful tree.
One merry shireIs told by Elven-squireTo dwell past the mist,Defying Morgoth's Fist.Yon the gales wester.Rule the Angels foster.Within the Eternal Kingdom,So truly blessed in saintdom.
All throughout the fells,Winding up on dells,Rest the soundless sighsThat from grave arise.Barrows bar the way.That is place of slay.Lords of yore were laid therein;Greater ghoul they fought agin.Forsaken moors drive afarAny well-foreboding star.Fogs are there to encumberThis grieving realm of sombre.Beauty vanished soonAt gleaming sinking noon.Nought remains of virtuous ken,About the dull infested glen.Safe from menace to this hour,Where good souls are not to cower,Is a land of wood and plainIn the Lord's ever-reign.
Stray and lostAmid the frostOf eerie peakWhich heroes seek.They sought the PassThat them harassWith hail and snowSwathing low.The Wizard knew,Among the few,That mountains rageAnd loathe the mage.They failed to climbIn fateful timeThe red-lit stone,As white as bone.It was a will,In grinding chill,Which gravely struckThe Bearer's luck.
Away from wild and anger.Away from creeping danger.Western routes fell in ruinBy rapid foul undoing.Undoing and sudden warThen stained this path with gore,Unto the Smith's defeat,Within his shining seat.Yet some lands withstand,Far from shore or strand,Inside a hidden daleUnder charming veil.There they suffer not;Home of deathless lot;Whither voyage ElvesTo secure themselves.Welcome is the guest,Down the mountain crest,To the Gentle House:A lovely fond arouse.
Shame! Was the sword turnedAnd thenceforth grimly mournedA vile aberrant kill,Spurred by greedy will.Woe! Will was wicked fire;Vaunted had the SireHis ardent vengeful wishTo yonder wrath unleash.Grief! Ire hath unmadeAnd therefore sorrow laidTo wondrous sea-loved port,Once of pearls the fort.Doom! Red grew thus the ancient tide.Hands were felon slave of pride.In storm the culprit got away,As pious blood had washed the Bay.Death! Valiant Noldo of grand craft,Thou hast drawn pike and shaftFor the felling of thy kind:Endless guilt shall thee bind.