ReVerse

[Elennar Starfire]

I finally worked out that tricksy last line! So, here's one from someone other than HI!

I can't quite remember how the original goes, and don't have my book handy, but it's Galadriel's song in Lothlorien, beginning with I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.

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You spoke of roots, of silver roots, but silver roots dissolved,
You spoke of calm, but no calm came into the hearts you loved.
Before the earth, before the sea, the moon shone on the land,
And silver stones of Ilmarin sat silent in your hand.
Here short the silver roots have gone behind the long straight days,
While there before the joining streams the joy of mortals stays.
O Moria, the summer comes, the brightly starlit night,
The trees are blooming in the spring, the blossoms fair and white.
O Moria, how short my stay within that far-off wood,
I would not wish to go again, not even if I could.
And if of wings you now should speak, these wings of mine would fly,
Far away, so far away, through starlit summer skies.

*****************************************

[HerenIstarion]

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

Good job, Elennar

[HerenIstarion]

Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.

O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!


***


Be not lorn! We splash in the mud at morn!
That bakes our skin into scale and horn
Wiseman is he that springs into dirt
Tearing off his pants and shirt!

O! Bitter is thought of the burning fire
And swelling heat to dry the mire
For good is swamp to stroll along
Of leeches and slime we sing a song!

O! Hungry one may devour some bread
Or salad fresh with a gulp of dread
But better is ooze and tadpoles green
Some newts, some snakes and a toad’s splin!

O! Sun may shine in the sky above
But better is shade down the chilly cove
For mucous floor and leaking walls
Are better than any nobleman’s halls!

[HerenIstarion]

O! What are you doing,
And where are you going?
Your ponies need shoeing!
The river is flowing!
O! tra-la-la-lally
here down in the valley!

O! What are you seeking,
And where are you making?
The faggots are reeking,
The bannocks are baking!
O! tril-lil-lil-lolly
the valley is jolly,
ha! ha!

O! Where are you going
With beards all a-wagging?
No knowing, no knowing
What brings Mister Baggins,
And Balin and Dwalin
down into the valley
in June
ha! ha!

O! Will you be staying,
Or will you be flying?
Your ponies are straying!
The daylight is dying!
To fly would be folly,
To stay would be jolly
And listen and hark
Till the end of the dark
to our tune
ha! ha.'



***************************


Ah! That’s what I’m being
That’s whence I’m coming
My dragon needs nothing
But vulcano erupting!
Ah! Tam tara ram it!
Up there on the summit!

Ah! That’s what I’d be finding
The root of undoing
The flow out-putting
The blaze of star-shooting
Ah! Doom doora doomy
The pinnacle is roomy!
Hey ho!

Ah! That’s whence I’m coming
With blade for a shaving
The secret I’m keeping
Is why I am climbing
A-creeping, a-crowling
Up, up the sheer wall
With a winter a-stroll
Hey ho!

Ah! Would I be falling?
Or would I be diving?
My dragon’s back’s swaying
Grey morn is a-coming
And dive is so darin’
Whilst fall is so scarin'
But to see and be seen
Is the pleasure so keen
High on that wall
Hey ho!

[HerenIstarion]

Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.'

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.'
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell-so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth.'

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.'


*******

Over Gorgor plain under sand and hill where the dry thorn crawls
The ashflake comes gliding, and on the stones it falls
‘What story untold, o ashen flake, do you bring with you today?
Have you brought the news of joy for boughs who’ve seen no spray?’
‘I know of flame under mountain tall, under abyss black and red
I know of fire and choking dust, of rocks that cover dead
I know of cruel wrath, I know, but I can tell no more
The spark may tell, the fiery spark, the one who’s born afore!’
‘O Frodo fair, on ashen plain I waited for you to tread
But ash still chokes my leaves and roots, and my thorns bring dread!’

From the muzzle red-glowing scalding spark flies, from the scorched walls and slopes
The malice of the fire it bears, but on it bears no hopes
‘What tidings new you’ll breath on me one grey and silent morn
Have you seen Frodo walking by, becompanied or lorn?’
‘Enquire not of deadly blaze for those who live on earth
Of the death fire, of the dark fire I’m born, not of the warming hearth,
No living yet have stepped inside, no shades of men there loom
No water sweet was poured there to quench the Cracks of Doom!’
'O Frodo fair! For countless years I creep and wither here
O Frodo fair! For countless years I wish that you were near!'

Over Ungol pass the salty breeze flaws and drives the fumes away
And lets the memory of the sea fall down at break of day
'What story glad you bring to me, the water clean and fair?
Have you seen Frodo walking on, climbing up the stair?’
‘Be glad for I have seen him enter halls of roaring flame
I’ve seen him out, I’ve seen him back, and he is not the same!
Dark flying shapes I’ve seen afar, but terror was no more
Soon rain will fall, and plain will live with green of leaf and bough!’
‘O Frodo fair! You’ve come at last, and stones now burst with song
You’ve come at last, and life is born, for we have waited long!’

[Evisse the Blue]

The horse and the rider
(original)

Where now the horse and the rider, where is the horn that was blowing,
Where is the helm and the hauberk and the bright hair flowing,
Where is the hand on the harpstring and the red fire glowing,
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing.
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like windion the meadow
The days have gone down in the West, behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

Reversed version:

Here is the hound and the wanderer, here is the flute that was moaning,
Here he lies on the shield, with his dark eyes glowing,
And so pass their feet by the mounds, and the ocean flowing,
Here come the winter and frost, with grass barely showing.
Here they come like sun in the valley, like stillness in the tomb,
The night covers the east, over the plains into gloom.
We shall put out the fire and cover the urn,
We shall bow our sad faces not to see them return.

[HerenIstarion]

preliminary note:

in the following verse, terms are rendered in a bit of a 'cheating' way. Indeed, Dwomordene, meaning "Magical Wood", is rendered to be Medwesea - i.e. Meadow-sea, which is not exact, but I hope to be excused, since the linking was as follows - magical ≠ ordinary ~ plain ~ meadow. Lorien - "Golden Wood" rendered to be Celebaer - Silver Sea". Opposing 'seals' to 'men' and elf Galdriel (Shining Garland) to polar bear Morigamp (Dark Claw) is deliberate, of course

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In Dwimordene, in Lórien
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel!
Clear is the water of your well;
White is the star in your white hand;
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land
In Dwimordene, in Lórien
More fair than thoughts of Mortal Men


***

On Medwesea, on Celebaer
Seals often shy the passing bear
Their ears sharp they prick by night
The hunted shiver in their fright!
O Morigamp! O Morigamp
Under your paw the snow is damp!
Keen are the teeth in gory jaw
White is the fur but dark is claw!
On Medwesea, on Celebaer
Oft hunts the seals the polar bear!