The Lay of Lethian: Tolkien's Poetry

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The Lay of Lethian: Tolkien's Poetry

Postby Tar-Herunole » Mon Mar 15, 2004 5:17 pm

My favourite poem in English. I will start posting the first lines and if you like them I will post more. (what I definitely recommend for the second is even ben better than fthe first, and it talks about Luthien Tindomerel!

Be aware these lines belong to much longer poem written by Tolkien, not me. The whole book, in the "The History of Middle-Earth" series is very recomendable. I will give more data on the book to whomever asks.
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High King of the Noldor in Middle-Earth
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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Postby ChatOmbre » Mon Mar 15, 2004 6:23 pm

ooh, very nice. thank you for posting this. I'd like it if you'd share more of it with us. :)
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"Too much ink is drawn to describe and define love. Why describe it and define it? Take my hand and let's just take a ride through it. Love is... Love is... Let's just go for awhile, leaving ourselves for each other." --Mike Smith
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Postby Tar-Herunole » Tue Mar 16, 2004 4:32 pm

Well, I actually expected the roaaring of the masses, but I guess the Roaring of the Chat would be more than enough. :)
This is for you Chat. Now it's when it becomes really, really beautiful. Worth to learn it by heart ^_^
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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Postby Tar-Herunole » Tue Mar 16, 2004 4:33 pm

next page...
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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Postby Tar-Herunole » Tue Mar 16, 2004 4:34 pm

and last page of first canto
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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Postby Tar-Herunole » Tue Mar 16, 2004 4:35 pm

My scanner is not recognizing the text, so if anyone of you can make of it a text file, I would appreciate it!
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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Postby Evlfrost » Tue Mar 16, 2004 7:22 pm

These are pretty nice. Though I would have to say that I am not overfond of poetry. I prefer reading the prose versions :)
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Postby ChatOmbre » Tue Mar 16, 2004 11:09 pm

:lol *roars* :lila
also....

The Lay of Leithian

I.Of Thingol in Doriath
A king there was in days of old:
Ere Men yet walked upon the mould
His power was reared in caverns’ shade,
His hand was over glen and glade.
Of leaves his crown, his mantle green,
His silver lances long and keen;
The starlight in his shield was caught,
Ere moon was made or sun was wrought.
In after-days, when to the shore
Of Middle-earth from Valinor
The Elven-hosts in might returned,
And banners flew and beacons burned,
When kings of Eldamar went by
In strength of war, beneath the sky
Then still his silver trumpets blew
When sun was young and moon was new.
Afar then in Beleriand,
In Doriath’s beleaguered land,
King Thingol sat on guarded throne
In many-pillared halls of stone:
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes’ mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And gleaming spears were laid in hoard:
all these he had and counted small,
for dearer than all wealth in hall,
and fairer than are born to Men,
a daughter had he, Lúthien.

Of Lúthien the Beloved
Such lissome limbs no more shall run
On the green earth beneath the sun;

The Lays of Beleriand
so fair a maid no more shall be
from dawn to duck, from sun to sea.
Her robe was blue as summer skies,
but grey as evening were her eyes;
her mantle sewn with lilies fair,
but dark as shadow was her hair.
Her feet were swift as bird on wing,
her laughter merry as the spring;
the slender willow, the bowing reed,
the fragrance of a flowering mead,
the light upon the leaves of trees,
the voice of water, more than these
her beauty was and blissfulness,
her glory and her loveliness.

She dwelt in the enchanted land
while elven-might yet held in hand
the woven woods of Doriath:
none ever thither found the path
unbidden, none the forest-eaves
dared pss, or stir the listening leaves.
To North there lay a land of dread,
Dungorthin where all ways were dead
in hills of shadow bleak and cold;
beyond was Deadly Nightshade’s hold
in Taur-nu-Fuin’s fastness grim,
where sun was sick and moon was dim.
To South the wide earth unexplored;
to West the ancient Ocean roared,
unsailed and shoreless, wide and wiled;
to East in peaks of blue were piled,
in silence folded, mist-enfurled,
the mountains of the outer world.

Thus Thingol in his dolven hall
amid the Thousand Caverns tall
of Menegroth as king abode:
to him there led no mortal road.
Beside him sat his deathless queen,
fair Melian, and wove unseen
nets of enchantment round is throne,
and spells were laid on tree and stone:
sharp was his sword and high his helm,
the king of beech and oak and elm.
When grass was green and leaves were long,
when finch and mavis sang their song,
there under bough and under sun
in shadow and in light would run
fair Lúthien the elven-maid,
dancing in dell and grassy glade.

Of Dairon Minstrel of Thingol
When sky was clear and stars were keen,
then Dairon with his fingers lean,
as daylight melted into eve,
a trembling music sweet would weave
on flutes of silver, thin and clear
for Lúthien, the maiden dear.

There mirth there was and voices bright;
there eve was peace and morn was light;
there jewel gleamed and silver wan
and red gold on white fingers shone,
and elanor and niphredil
bloomed in the grass unfading still,
while the endless years of Elven-land
rolled over far Beleriand,
until a day of doom befell,
as still the elven-harpers tell.
Queen of the PointyShiney

"Too much ink is drawn to describe and define love. Why describe it and define it? Take my hand and let's just take a ride through it. Love is... Love is... Let's just go for awhile, leaving ourselves for each other." --Mike Smith
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Postby Tar-Herunole » Wed Mar 17, 2004 11:22 am

Thanks a lot Chat! Glad you liked.
I agree with Elv on prefering good written prose. But I guess the eqilibrium must be found in the world of Tolkien itself. Most of the adventures and serious things, are written in prose. But there is always a time for remembrance and song, where poetry arises the spirits!
High King of the Noldor in Middle-Earth
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"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
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