[HerenIstarion]

Lovely was she
As in elven-song is told:
She had pearls in hair
All threaded fair;
Of gossamer shot with gold
Was her kerchief made,
And a silver braid
Of stars about her throat.
Of moth-web light
All moonlit-white
She wore a woven coat,
And round her kirtle
Was bound a girdle
Sewn with diamond dew.

She walked by day
Under mantle grey
And hood of clouded blue;
But she went by night
All glittering bright
Under the starlit sky,
And her slippers frail
Of fishes' mail
Flashed as she went by
To her dancing-pool,
And on mirror cool
Of windless water played.
As a mist of light
In whirling flight
A glint like glass she made
Wherever her feet
Of silver fleet
Flicked the dancing-floor.

She looked on high
To the roofless sky,
And she looked to the shadowy shore;
Then round she went,
And her eyes she bent
And saw beneath her go
A Princess Shee
As fair as Mee:
They were dancing toe to toe!

Shee was as light
As Mee, and as bright;
But Shee was, strange to tell,
Hanging down
With starry crown
Into a bottomless well!
Her gleaming eyes
In great surprise
Looked up to the eyes of Mee:
A marvellous thing,
Head-down to swing
Above a starry sea!

Only their feet
Could ever meet;
For where the ways might lie
To find a land
Where they do not stand
But hang down in the sky
No one could tell
Nor learn in spell
In all the elven-lore.

So still on her own
An elf alone
Dancing as before
With pearls in hair
And kirtle fair
And slippers frail
Of fishes' mail went Mee:
Of fishes' mail
And slippers frail
And kirtle fair
With pearls in hair went Shee!



now to be read as:


Huge Swineherd Him

Ugly was he
As the orckish prose reveals
With bone in a nose
Still bendy as hose
Of a wood and a nail to kill
Is his club hand-made
And his shield all laid
With spikes about its brim.
Foul his hide all dark
Stained with bloody mark
Of one Eye so cruel and grim
All round his loin
Skulls and ribs be going
Of unhappy elves he slew

He crawled by night
Outrun by fright
In seek of live flesh to hew
And he slipped by day
As a spot dim grey
Over the darkling lake
Oh, his boots all strong
Withered earth oft prong
Like enourmous cruel rake
When he arched his back
Thirsted for slash an hack
With his cruel and ruddy fang
Foul helm of brass
All stained and crass
O'er hairy shoulder was hung
When the pin-sharp claws
Of his clutching paws
Through the sinew and bone he tore

He gazed all down
As o'er the mobbed town
Through pale and shining door
All square he sat
Into roomy vat
Empty he thought it but,
A swineherd Ai
With winked eye…
They ended right butt to butt!

Ai was as grim,
As Him and as prim
But Ai was, easy to cry
Flutterin' like bat
Upside in the vat
Up to the domed sky!
His dirty ears
Pointed like spears
Rubbed to ears of Him
Irksome a thing
With a loud ding
Vat drowned in lake so dim!


Not only the butts
Of both those mutts
But ears and noses and eyes
Were alloyed
In pairs were toyed
Both buzzed like cruel flies!
Everyone said
Be them live or dead
That their seat may be found at ease
By the smelly stench
Of the last year's tench
And the oily lamp of grease!
But still they sit
In a vat so neat
One great lump o'meat
Still buzzing like before!
In great lump o'meat
In a vat so neat
There still they sit
Behind the locked door!