"Wise words indeed Bethberry," Arcon said. "You should not worry so much about that which you cannot change. If you do still have any memories, you should not force them, nor lust for them, it will only cause sorrow either way. If you were meant to remember then you would have by now, be patient." Arcon smiled at Naraamare to show his concern for her problem.
As they made their way down the road, shafts of light came pouring down between the clouds. Soon, the sun was full and warm in the sky. This seemed to lift spirits a bit more, so much so, Arcon resolved to share a song.
"Though I am not a musician of any standard, Haidan indeed recieved that gift. When we were young, he taught me a song that our mother had written. It tells of Aman, the land of our parents birth. I fear I may not do the song justice, but I shall try."
Arcon began to sing softly as he rode on.
Calen i parth er-haeron falas
Tond i galadh ned Valinor
Moe hwest drom ennas anann
A fael a lim i celon laer
Lhun i gaear ned Alqualonde
I gwaloth sila lim ind i aur methed
Faen elenath ned Varda loda-taur or
Ai! fael Aman ned edhellen meleth
"That is all I know," Arcon said regretfully.
--------- Translation of song------------
Green the fields on hither shores
Tall the trees of Valinor
Soft breeze blows there ever-long
And fair and clear the river song
Blue the waves of Alqualonde
The flowers shine on though the day end
White stars of Varda floar high above
Ah! Fair Aman of elven love
[ July 05, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]
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